


Once Upon The End

by Larkabel



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Post-anime timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 60,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkabel/pseuds/Larkabel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only weeks after Madoka's sacrifice gave birth to a new universe, a simple, misguided wish caused it to spiral out of control, leaving humanity – and other magical girls – to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dust

**Author's Note:**

> I decided I might as well post this here. Feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> Read on [Fanfiction.net](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8913046/1/Once-Upon-The-End).

The sky was dark like it was any other day of the week, and the air was thick with an ever-present shroud of dust. It was cold as well – the sort of cold that crept under one's skin and didn't go away, no matter how many layers you put on.

But overriding all of that was the miasma, that was so heavy and powerful that even the humans had begun to sense it. They could feel it like an icy claw gripping their hearts that spread out to numb their entire bodies. They threw around different explanations, saying that it was the cold or the fact that it was always dark. But it unsettled them all the same, perhaps even more so than the perpetual dusk and the layer of dust and soot that covered everything.

Melanie tried not to pay attention to any of it when she was hunting. The darkness or the cold or the humans or even the miasma. Under 'normal' circumstances (but what was even normal anymore, she wasn't sure), the thickening miasma would help her track her targets, but now it served only as a constant hindrance, pervading her thoughts menacingly and causing her to shiver. She would have counted herself lucky to not be able to feel cold while transformed, but the miasma quickly replaced it, and her heightened senses as a magical girl allowed her to sense it more keenly. The demons were so numerous nowadays and the accumulated grief so high that she hardly needed the miasma to hunt now, so it was just another punishment that came with the accursed world. She simply had to move into a bad area, which was pretty much anywhere she went. She'd seen more death and suffering in the matter of a few months than the average person would have seen in their lifetime only a year ago, and she was one of the few who was still managing to keep their wits together somehow. Demons were everywhere. Humans were nearly extinct, and magical girls were following close behind.

After all, the apocalypse had already happened and the world was well on it's way to decaying for good, with no hope of revival.

Everyone knew it, but everyone was in difference stages of acceptance. Melanie tried to move forward, even with that knowledge. She hated to give up, so she would keep fighting until she exhausted herself. And the demons would just keep coming – never exhausting _themselves_ – until she was dead. It was already bad enough that they were invincible, but then the world had turned on its head too. Now the world was covered in dust and had become a place of death and despair – a sort of trap in itself. And the demons continued to spawn, completely unaffected, as the populace tried to deal with both at once.

It was all such a bad joke that she could have laughed. In fact, she sometimes came across girls nearing their ends who were, in fact, laughing as if all of it were a joke – as if the whole world was a joke.

But she'd never really laughed at all, even before all this had happened, so she saw no reason to now. Doing so would be a sign that insanity was taking her too – as it had taken so many others. She found solace in quietness, which rarely happened nowadays. Ironically, the only time it did was when the demons actually appeared. They were terrifying in their silence, but they were also calm. Regal, even. Many were unhinged by the eeriness of it, so they would go overboard with unnecessary battle cries while they fought.

But Melanie liked the silence. It suited her far better than this world where cries of pain and suffering had become noises she was well accustomed to. So she fought wordlessly, almost thanking the demons for their short-lived and double-edged gift.

It was at that moment that the sounds of the world seemed to fade, signalling the approach of her prey. She was standing on a rooftop of a partially intact home with worn shingles that was half caved in on one side, and still scorched from a fire. From the formation of the surrounding houses, it was clear the area used to be a cul-de-sac, although it was now coated in a layer of dust and plaster. As the sounds around her – distant battle shouts and screams, the wind, and of course cries of pain – dimmed completely, Melanie raised her hand and felt the familiar round smoothness of her Soul Gem as it enlarged from it's ring form, fitting perfectly into her palm. In a flash of lavender light, she had abandoned her old, tattered clothes for a simple light purple skirt, a matching sweeper, and a white blouse. Her Soul Gem fitted itself onto her silver headband. Transformation complete, she walked forwards to meet the demons.

Compared to the grey-brown sky, they were like beacons of light, messengers of hope.

Or that was what they would have you believe.

Melanie summoned her weapon – an ornate staff – and stood on the rooftop, waiting. If she was patient, they would come to her. There was no reason to go charging in and tire herself out. (She'd learned that the hard way.) There was no longer anything she was protecting from the demons, so she could wait as long as she liked. She was there for one reason only, after all, and it had nothing to do with the interests of humanity.

There was no need to wait for very long. The demons had already sensed her magical presence and were slowly drifting in her direction, almost lazily. If the humans could see them, they would think they were spectres of the newly fallen… and there was certainly no shortage of them.

"Oi," a voice said right in her ear, causing her to flinch violently.

Another girl was standing there, garbed in a royal blue dress that hugged her body and extended past her knees. Her Soul Gem (Melanie had fast learned to always keep track of where a girl's Soul Gem was, just in case) was located on her neck, a very common place. She held a trident and wore an almost smug smile, like she'd already won the fight. There was a sort of halo around her of clean air as she used her magic to expel dust – something Melanie never bothered to waste her energy doing.

She strode forward confidently, passing Melanie. "Let a real fighter do the fighting, if you know what I mean," she said briefly over her shoulder before vanishing on the spot.

 _A teleporter,_ Melanie thought in interest. _So that's how she snuck up on me._ She watched as the girl reappeared in the middle of the crowd of demons, thrusting her trident forward almost tauntingly. Melanie didn't move to join her. Instead, she raised her staff ever so slightly, and her brows furrowed as she concentrated. The girl below continued fighting, taking down demon after demon, and even yelling taunts as she did so.

Surprisingly, girls like that, who thought they could handle anything, were not uncommon. It was either that or accept that you couldn't do anything to change the way things were and eventually fall into despair. Melanie had seen it happen often. Too often. She herself was still balancing precariously between the two attitudes, not sure which one suited her.

The girl was good, though, she had to admit. Melanie could tell she was a veteran by the way she fought with precise strikes, and wise use of teleportation, and well, you had to be that way if you wanted to survive in this world. She'd already picked off several of the demons and was now flitting in and out of sight to continuously avoid them. Sometimes it didn't happen, but usually the demons would come in numbers too great for one [strong] girl to handle. Often too great for more than one girl. So it was mostly about dodging attacks, gathering as many Grief Cubes as you needed at that moment, and then making your escape as quickly and quietly as you could. Melanie, as well as a majority of other girls, had already come to accept that way of fighting, however pride-damaging it might be.

Anyways, it was a lot more pride-damaging to know that any efforts to eliminate demons in the immediate moment always amounted to nothing, so there was no point fighting more than you had to.

Fortunately, the girl's strength allowed her to finish off all of the demons in the area, although Melanie could still sense one or two lingering nearby. In a flash of blue light, the girl appeared next to Melanie again, panting heavily.

"You know… some help would have been appreciated," she gasped. "I mean I'm gonna be nice enough to give you some of the Grief Cubes, but you might not be so lucky with the others if you slack off, you know."

"I did help," Melanie said in her soft voice. She tried to avoid talking whenever she could, but in this case, it was important to break her vow of silence to maintain whatever generosity the other girl was currently feeling towards her. "I protected you in that battle."

The girl straightened, still breathing hard, and looked sidelong at Melanie in a sort of studying way. "I guess now that you mention it… I did feel a sort of a power around me while I was fighting. Just assumed it was me or the demons. That was you?"

Melanie responded with a nod.

"Ah," the girl said briefly. "Well, I won't question it, I guess. As long as I'm alive. Here, I can spare these." She held out her hand and dumped three Grief Cubes into Melanie's hand. "Take care of yourself, okay? I'd go find some friends if I were you. Whatever your power is, it's not enough by itself." And then she was gone, vanishing on the spot.

Melanie gripped the cubes tightly, banishing her magical girl garb. That wasn't the first time she'd been given such advice by another magical girl. It never meant much to her, but she couldn't help feeling a little… upset about being called weak over and over. Or at least, not a 'fighter'.

But she was enough to take out the right amount of demons to keep herself alive, and that's all she cared about. She didn't need companions (especially since the likelihood of dying at any moment either to corruption or demons was rising each day, meaning she wouldn't have them for long) to make her strong. She was strong by herself, relying only on herself. It was easier that way.

Even though she felt that way about companions, she didn't mind it when other magical girls arrived to help, either with fighting or healing. In fact, she welcomed it. It wasn't uncommon for magical girls to help each other either. Usually, it was the few healers who were left that lent a hand, but now and then, a strong fighter who was willing to share their haul of cubes would jump in. It happened more often than not, although the motives weren't always selfless. Sometimes magical girls would aid someone who had promising powers, hoping to recruit them to their team. Or sometimes the reason was as simple as them wanting to help rid an area of demons for the time being and collecting twice as many Grief Cubes. Sometimes theft happened, although it occurred less and less. The stark truth of the situation was: the more magical girls there were, the better. So they would often help each other mainly for the sake of their own survival. Competition was no longer too much of an issue.

Of course, she didn't mind. As long as she got her share of the Grief Cubes afterwards, she was fine with someone else jumping into the battle. Her powers were associated with defence, after all, so it was true that she wasn't much of a fighter type.

She still hated to be automatically seen as weak, though.

The miasma around the area was thickening ever so slightly, but it was enough of an indicator that more demons were converging on that spot. Melanie shoved her Grief Cubes into the pocket of her jacket, turned, and ran nimbly along the rooftop in the opposite direction.

The roofs gradually began to decline, and Melanie leaped off at the lowest point she could find, landing as gracefully as she could on the ground below. Her landing sent up a large, choking cloud of dust and she had to pause for a few minutes, coughing and waving her hand in front of her face to clear her mouth and nose, as well as her vision.

That always happened whenever she jumped from a high place, but she had never gotten used to it.

She also winced as her feet began to throb from the impact. She landed as softly as she was able (as a magical girl, she could manage falls from higher heights than humans), but her "shoes" offered barely any protection against the cold, uneven ground. Her "shoes" were pieces of cardboard that she'd tied to the bottom of her feet using worn and mud-caked shoelaces she'd found in a dumpster. At the end of the day, the laces were worth much more than the pieces of cardboard, since the cardboard always wore down whenever it rained (and it didn't help that the rain was usually toxic or otherwise polluted), so she had to scavenge for a new pair every time that happened. But having cardboard shoes were better than wearing nothing at all and accidentally stepping on a sharp piece of rubble or a shard of glass in your bare feet. The cardboard shoes didn't offer much more protection, but to someone without shoes, they would be like a comfort. And a vast majority of people had nothing on their feet and couldn't heal as quickly as magical girls.

The dust swirling around her slowly settled back into the haze that she was used to. One of the good things about the ground was that the dust was a little less dense. She rubbed her eye, which had become slightly irritated by the dust during her trek over the rooftops. That was apparently a bad thing to do, but it was hard to stop herself. Her nose was also itching, but that was a constant thing, and it had already grown red and raw from her constant rubbing. In fact, her whole body felt sore and itchy at the same time. It was easy to ignore while she was focused on hunting, like everything else (and her magical presence helped ward it off altogether), but now that she was back on the ground, it all came rushing back to greet her with rude force.

Melanie would have liked to stay away from the ground altogether, but it was easier to breathe down there, what with the lower amounts of dust, and many of the roofs were dangerously unstable. At a time like this, she couldn't afford to get injured by stepping on a weak point in a roof and falling through. What little magic she had was precious, and couldn't be wasted on healing.

Her thoughts having returned to her magic, Melanie looked around for a safe place to use her Grief Cubes. It wasn't really necessary to get away from the open, since magical girl ambushes were becoming rare and many of the humans were too weak to attack someone like her, or too scared to step outside whatever was left of their homes. There were a few homes that stayed intact and families that remained alive, but no one ever really saw them. They stayed out of sight and kept a low profile for obvious reasons. As for the rest of humanity… Melanie wasn't even sure if there were any large groups of survivors. There were several 'grave sites', which were large areas basically heaped with corpses that were brought there usually by magical girls who were trying to clear the streets. It was more out of a concern for fighting space and the smell than anything else (although the sites stank from miles away), but it was still unnerving to see a dead body, no matter how many times she came across one. The small nagging voice of realism inside her wouldn't let her forget that it could be her one day.

Still, whether the streets were clear or not, Melanie didn't like just standing there and cleansing her Soul Gem. It just seemed wrong somehow. She was used to living the magical girl aspect of her life in secret after all, even if it was the end of the world and most likely, the only people who would accidentally stumble across her would be other magical girls.

She picked a random direction and headed to the left. Along with the dust, her vision was constantly clouded by a light reddish haze. She wasn't exactly sure where it came from or if it was just her, but it stained the world around her in a strange sort rustiness. The dark, angry sky didn't help with the unease it brought her. She could just never get used to _that_ part of the world's end.

A pained moan from nearby caught her attention, and she stopped mid-step. A person was huddled on the ground, covered in rags, and coughing weakly. They had somehow noticed her passing because they reached out to her with a grimy hand that looked severely chafed.

"Healer," they croaked, just loud enough for her to hear. "Please."

Melanie stopped. Whoever it was, it was a magical girl. No one else would say something like that. And they couldn't have guessed anything about her ability since she wasn't transformed, so they must just be hoping that she was one.

Against her better judgement, she turned towards them.

Melanie was anything but a proper healer, but she could do it more proficiently than most other girls. Most of the magical girls still alive were ones who had made wishes centred around fighting and survival – wishes that often didn't come with the power to heal. Her wish barely allowed for it. Although several healers had survived the catastrophe, they weren't strong enough to survive alone for very long. The few healers that were left were parts of teams and mostly saved their magic exclusively for their fellows. Wounded and dying magical girls were the only exception. Except when they were beyond aid.

As Melanie approached the pile of shuddering rags, she realized that the girl was, indeed, already beyond her help. Her Soul Gem was enlarged into it's gem-form and lay on the ground as if it had rolled there from her hand. It was stained black, the angry, dark swirls dominating most of what appeared to have once been a white-yellow surface. The girl herself was huddled to the side of the building, coughing out dust every now and then and groaning. What was left of her clothes were covered in filth and dried blood. Whatever had happened to her was taking its toll slowly and – obviously – painfully.

Melanie crouched beside her and the girl looked up weakly. Her face was gaunt and sunken from starvation. Melanie wondered briefly if she had been one of the girls who had made it through the catastrophe, but had slowly let despair take them. Certainly, that's what it looked like more than anything, since there wouldn't be this much left of her if she'd been outnumbered by demons and she wouldn't still be alive if she'd been directly injured by the catastrophe.

But then again, the girl had asked for help. So she must still have hope.

"You…" the girl rasped, her breath wheezing in her chest. "You're… one of us… aren't you?"

Melanie decided to opt for the truth. "I am," she said simply, raising her voice slightly in case the girl's hearing had been damaged. "Hold on," she added, trying to sound encouraging. "I'll see what I can do."

The girl smiled as much as she could through her pain. "There's nothing you can do. So don't… waste your energy. I… I know you're not a healer."

Melanie was slightly taken aback at that, but the girl continued before she could speak. It was one of the few times she was actually cut off when she tried to say something.

"Have you… heard of the… Solen Bridge?"

Melanie nodded without a word, although she was baffled by her words. There were few who know about that bridge – the last remarkable feat humanity had accomplished before its demise. Named after the ingenious architect who had planned its structure and building, the bridge spanned across the Pacific Ocean, linking the Asian continent with North America. Just as everybody had been celebrating humanity's latest step forward, _it_ happened. And of course, the bridge was was no longer there. Even a bridge that crossed the Pacific Ocean couldn't do much against the apocalypse.

"It exists," the girl said, in close to an inaudible murmur. "It exists."

Of course the bridge existed, so Melanie was confused by what she said at first (she wasn't exactly sure she'd even heard it right). It could just be mad ravings of someone near death, but somehow, it didn't sound like it. The girl's eyes were focused on Melanie and she repeated it over and over, although it was obviously to Melanie, not to herself.

At last, Melanie found her tongue, although her voice was unsure and nervous. "What do you mean?"

The girl shifted painfully, and a cough forced its way from her cracked lips. "It still stands," she managed. "Managed… by us. I was… sent to tell… anyone I could… to go there. We are converging… to save… this world. Please." She took Melanie's hand before the other could pull away. "You must go there! You must all go there!"

Her eyes were wide, almost crazed. Now Melanie was almost sure that she was finally breaking down mentally. Glancing quickly down at her Soul Gem, she saw that it was almost completely corrupted. The end was near.

"We are… the last," the girl croaked, and her hands began shaking so much she was forced to drop Melanie's hand. "Please… we must…" Her eyes widened, nearly bulging as she gasped out the last word. "…survive."

Melanie watched almost sympathetically as the girl's body began convulsing. She could do nothing but watch. Nothing she said or did would make a difference. It would soon be over. As if to make a point, Melanie got to her feet and backed a respectable distance away, giving the girl room. Somehow, she felt it was appropriate. They were all alone at the end anyways, and she hadn't even known the girl in life, so it felt wrong to be the last one near her in death. Or at least, that was her ideal, even though she had been the last one near her before she died. That was something that never stopped bothering Melanie, no matter how many dying people she came across.

Slowly, the girl's thrashing grew feebler until she was lying still in a heap of rags and dust. Her Soul Gem, still visible on the ground, was completely black.

Melanie waited. She knew what would happen, having seen it dozens of times before. For some reason, it never stopped transfixing her, no matter how many times she saw it.

Slowly, the blackness of the gem began to recede and drain away, as if an invisible being were cleansing it. As it happened, the girl on the ground opened her eyes and they seemed to fix on a point above her. A peaceful smile spread across her face at whatever she was seeing. That was the part Melanie never understood. The whole process itself was bewildering, but that was the strangest part.

As the last of the corruption faded from the girl's Soul Gem, Melanie could see tears of happiness in her eyes, and saw her lips moving as if speaking a word or a name. Of course, she could never tell exactly what it was they were saying. Then the girl's eyes closed and her Soul Gem seemed to dissolve in her hand as a last sigh left her lips. The look of contentment did not leave her face, even in death.

Melanie just stared. If she waited long enough, she would witness yet another phenomenon: the girl's body mysteriously vanishing on the spot. But despite that knowledge, she continued to stare. Of course, it was upsetting to see anyone die, let alone a magical girl, but she wasn't sure what to make of _this_ girl. She'd heard lots of the crazy things people had to say in their last breaths, but this girl probably won for the strangest thing she'd heard. The Solen Bridge? Who would even think of such a thing as that when they were dying? And had she said it was still standing? Given the state of most of the buildings around her, Melanie assumed the rest of the world was in the same situation. It seemed ridiculous to think a bridge was unaffected. And yet…

She shook her head, trying to tear her eyes away from the girl's motionless body. She was just another magical girl, struggling to survive, struggling to keep herself sane… and failing in the end. That's always what happened. There was no point at all in taking her last words seriously. She had to move on, like always, and accept that that was what happened when you died, and it would probably happen to her someday. She took one last glance at the girl's shattered Soul Gem before turning and swiftly heading the way she'd been going before coming across her... before she had time to watch her disappear. Moving on was always best.

Once she was a safe distance away, she stopped to take a breath (the dust made it difficult) and summoned her own Soul Gem. There were a few noticeable trails of corruption running through it, which surprised her. Perhaps she'd been more disturbed by the encounter than she'd thought. She pressed two of the three Grief Cubes she'd been given against the hard surface, watching as the blackness was sucked into the cubes. Then she dropped the two squares onto the ground, kicking them away from her. They'd soon respawn into more demons that she'd have to fight to get _more_ Grief Cubes. It was a hopeless, unending cycle. It was the whole point of her life. Maybe she'd just been glad to hear something a little different, even if it was so far-fetched.

A scream from nearby spiked her adrenaline instantly, and she turned her head in the direction of the sound. The dust, of course, didn't allow her to see very far, but whoever had made that sound wasn't in the area anyways. And the scream had sounded more vicious than anything, so it was probably someone engaged in battle. She could never catch a break, what with the wave of new magical girls who had been flooding into the already crowded state in the last few days to escape danger elsewhere. Most of them were strong – survivors, in other words – but Melanie felt obligated to find out what was going on, especially after she'd been helped earlier that day.

In a flash, Melanie had transformed. She searched for the lowest point she could find on the rooftops and leaped. The roof creaked underneath her, but thankfully didn't give way. She craned her neck to see what was happening. In front of her lay what probably used to be a park, although it was really hard to tell what anything was in the haze. Below her, there was a large group of demons all floating in tandem towards a particular source.

 _Another magical girl,_ Melanie thought in surprise. That had to be a record, meeting three in one day, and not a single human (dead or no).

Instantly, Melanie searched for a better vantage point, summoning her staff as she did so. There were a lot of demons in the area (she was surprised she hadn't been able to sense them) and, by the sounds of it, only one magical girl.

At last, she was able to find a spot where she had a clear view, atop a chimney that half crumbled as she stood on it.

The demons in the area seemed to have latched onto their target because they were all aiming in the same direction, breaking the haze now and then with brief bursts of light as they attacked whoever it was fighting them. Melanie squinted and could see no one at first.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an orange flash glowed brilliantly, and something that looked like a tendril of orange light coiled around one of the demons, squeezing it out of existence. A second later, the wielder appeared herself – a red-haired girl clad in an outfit composed of several shades of orange – holding a long whip in her hand that was blazing with magic.

Melanie quickly raised her staff, concentrating. Her power lay in defence, as she'd demonstrated in the earlier battle, most specifically barriers. As long as she had the will to defend someone, they would be defended. But she had to be able to see them and focus on them. She could defend herself as well, of course. But usually, this was how it was. She would protect from afar so she didn't have to worry about herself.

The girl didn't seem to notice the outside interference because she kept cracking her whip, swinging it at demon after demon. As the demons began closing in on her, she leaped into the air, letting out another of her shrill screams, and somersaulted somewhere mid-jump, disappearing from Melanie's view again and rendering her shields useless. This time, neither her nor her whip reappeared, but the demons still seemed to be focused on something. A bad feeling rose in Melanie's gut and she took a deep breath before launching herself off of the roof towards the cluster of demons, readying her magic as she did so. There was no time to think, no time to question what she was doing. She just had to do something before it was too late. It could end up being her last battle with that rationality, but that was the way it always was anyways.

She willed herself to be protected, focusing a sum of her energy on that. Her basic barriers were invisible, so she just had to trust herself. Then she raised her staff and moved it in a sweeping arc in front of herself. It released jets of lavender light that rushed towards the demons, causing several to disintegrate on the spot. The others were instantly alerted to the new threat and turned almost lazily in her direction. Melanie didn't wait for them to move in on her. She sent another barrage of magic at them, slowly backing away as she did so and looking for a strategic position for herself. Once the demons were closer, she would retreat to the rooftops again, but she had to keep them distracted. Wherever the other girl was, she must be injured if she wasn't still fighting. That… or she had collected her share of Grief Cubes.

But no. As the demons drifted towards Melanie, she spotted a heap of orange behind them, unmoving. Good. So she was fighting this battle for a reason.

She sent more jets of light from her staff as the demons neared her position. She wasn't yet in range of their attacks, but it was getting dangerously close. She decided that was a good time to move.

The demons' masks began shimmering even more than usual. It may have been pretty to anyone other than a magical girl. Melanie knew it meant they were preparing to blaze a hole right through her. She quickly ran to the side, still remembering to think about protecting herself. As long as her barriers were in place, she could survive a couple hits. That was the worst case scenario, though.

She turned mid-run, flinging several beams of lavender light towards the demons. If they were focused on her, they wouldn't be focused on the other girl. That was the plan anyways.

The demons were silent as they stalked their prey. Melanie liked to think of silence as being her 'domain', even if it was intangible. Like always, the demons almost aided her with it.

Still, she wasn't a born fighter and her stamina was subpar, to say the least. There were far too many demons for her to handle alone. This was the point where she'd usually gather the Grief Cubes she'd earned and make her escape. In this situation, however, she had to use her trump card to get out of it.

She banished her staff, knowing she would need all her energy for it. She sucked a breath in, trying not to think about the dust that clogged her throat as she did. Dust was constant, and it could no longer bother her now. She concentrated, pouring all her energy towards herself, thinking of herself being protected and shielded from the demons until they could no longer think about harming her…

She waited before a faint lavender veil appeared around her before she made her move. She dashed forward as quick as she could straight into the centre of the horde, only pausing to snatch up the Grief Cubes that had been dropped during the battle. The demons did not even hesitate. They continued to drift towards the place she'd been seconds before, not even noticing that she'd moved.

After gathering her spoils as well as the other girl's, Melanie hurried in the direction of the fallen magical girl, extending her shield to surround her as she did. Her breath came in pants and sweat was beading on her brow. This certain ability took a lot of magic, so she would need some time to recuperate later. For now, however, she had to keep her focus until the demons lost interest.

She knelt by the girl, inspecting her closely. She was one of the few girls who had trousers as part of their outfit, and her auburn hair was pulled back in a braid. She was, by the looks of it, tall, and older than Melanie (at least appearance-wise). The side of her outfit was stained with blood – she'd probably been nicked by a beam – and she was out cold. There was a sort of determined hardness to her face and even while unconscious, she was frowning.

To Melanie, that sight was more natural than the weird smile girls had when they died.

Melanie waited as the demons in the area continued to drift around, searching for their prey. She passed the time by pressing the hem of her sweeper against the girl's side to stop the bleeding. It didn't really matter if she dirtied or ripped her magical girl outfit, since it was always somehow repaired by magic the next time she transformed.

Just as she felt her magical supply dropping to a dangerous low, the demons began to move off in a random direction. Hopefully there were other magical girls in the area who would pick them off in case they decided to double back.

Melanie released her magic with a heaving gasp, falling forward to catch her breath on all fours. Hiding her presence using barriers was difficult enough, let alone extending the effect to more than one person. She fumbled for the Grief Cubes and quickly cleansed her gem, sighing in pure relief as she did so. Then she turned her attention to the girl.

The wound in her side turned out to not be very deep, but she also had a gash in the back of her head and, judging by her position, she'd probably been flung backwards into the side of the building. She was lucky the wall was firm or the damage could have been a lot worse, as Melanie observed.

Melanie got right to work, summoning up her powers again, but this time to heal. These were wounds she could manage at least, and not fatal, at least not short-term. Magic tingled at Melanie's fingertips and she slowly moved her hands over the girl's side, watching the wound slowly close as she did so. She wasn't talented enough in healing magic to close internal injuries, so she hoped there weren't any of those. She could deal with the surface wounds only.

As she moved to the girl's head, reaching around as best she could, the girl began to stir and moan. Melanie paid little attention to it. None of it was anything she hadn't experienced before. There were few who would say this was new.

The girl's eyes blinked open slowly. They were hazel, and still slightly unfocused as she was pulled out of unconsciousness.

"What're you…" she began groggily, trying to sit up, but slumping again from exhaustion.

Melanie didn't respond or offer any explanation. In fact, she'd been so focused on sealing the girl's wound that she jumped at the sudden voice, not expecting her to question what was going on. It wasn't unusual for girls to help each other out if they found someone in a tough situation. And Melanie was feeling extra generous that day, for whatever reason.

And it (sorta) made her feel good afterwards.

At last, Melanie finished her handiwork and sat back. The girl was still regaining full awareness, so she waited patiently until she was strong enough to sit up, before silently offering her a handful of Grief Cubes.

The girl didn't notice at first, instead sitting and clutching her head, groaning slightly. "God, these migraines," she complained. "It's this damn miasma. If the demons don't get me first, it's gonna be this." She clearly hadn't noticed the dried blood on the back of her scalp.

Melanie didn't comment, but waited with her arm still outstretched.

The girl finally let go of her temple, noticing Melanie offering the Grief Cubes. Her eyes widened. "All of 'em? You sure you don't need any?"

Melanie simply shrugged and pointed towards her clear Soul Gem, nested in her hair.

"Okay. Thanks," the girl said, shrugging herself. She took the cubes and instantly pressed them against her Soul Gem, which was located on the shoulder of her outfit. She sighed blissfully as the corruption drained away. Melanie understood the feeling, having been close to her limit several times in her short life as a magical girl – the last few minutes included.

Once the girl was finished cleansing herself, she grasped the Grief Cubes in her fist and stood very slowly, wobbling slightly. Melanie also rose, although still wordless, and watched as the girl drew back her arm very deliberately and flung the Grief Cubes away, as far as she could throw. Then she turned to face Melanie, appraising her carefully. Melanie just stood, folding her hands in front of her. She expected the girl to just walk off, like most of the others did, or even try to steal any Grief Cubes she might have on her (that had also happened). But she just stared, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.

At last, she said, "You got a name?" She spaced her words out a bit, almost as if she were speaking to a child. Judging from appearance, she must have been only a few years older than Melanie at most, and even then, Melanie was no child. But of course, she didn't mind. She'd been spoken to in multiple ways in her life after all, and this wasn't the worst way to be addressed, by any stretch.

Melanie remained silent, even to such a simple question. She preferred silence, and if she had her way, she wouldn't ever have to talk. She reserved that for times when it was necessary in order to avoid trouble. Anyways, talking was painful. Words were painful. She felt more comfortable around her own thoughts, where she was safe. Speaking her thoughts was like putting herself in an uncomfortable domain, where anything could happen. And other people, who she understood even less than herself, were even scarier what with their own unique thoughts and motives.

Needless to say, it seemed illogical even for Melanie to go around helping others and opening up the prospect of conversation. But up until now, none of the girls she'd saved had ever offered opportunities to exchange words. They'd simply come and gone, in and out of her life. So why was this girl different? Why was it that everyone was talking to her that day?

When Melanie didn't reply, the girl relaxed into a more casual stance and crossed her arms. "Well, my name's Anita, if you want to know. And uh… thanks again for saving me just now. I was in a tough situation there, and your barriers really helped. Nifty ability, if I do say so myself." Then she looked at Melanie closely, a frown forming on her face. "Okay, I know you're not deaf. So are you not saying anything for a reason or are you just flat-out ignoring me?" A moment later, her frown deepened as if she'd seen something she disapproved of. "I see. Well, I don't bite, however stupid that sounds. I like it when people talk to me. I don't think that's a bad thing or whatever." She must have seen the look of brief surprise on Melanie's face because she chuckled. "And before you ask, I can read minds. So I know you're not talking for a reason, although you're doing a pretty good job of hiding that reason." She peered at Melanie curiously, but the other girl's lips remained shut. "I know what you're thinking – well, duh, of course I do. It's not really the generic response either. If you're so afraid of me reading your thoughts, why not block me? You're a shield, so theoretically–" She broke off mid-sentence, and a grin spread across her face. "Aha. There we go."

Melanie didn't even remember doing anything different. It was as if the girl's comment about her shielding her thoughts had triggered the appropriate response, just like how she normally defended herself during battle. She felt a deep sense of relief. The thought of someone digging around in her head and knowing what she was thinking at that exact moment terrified her. Her head was the only place where she was safe, after all.

The girl – Anita – continued talking after a short pause. "I'm kind of interested, you know. Normally, I wouldn't stand around talking after a fight, but I'm a bit curious about you. That's not saying much actually, but you seem a little different. I mean, it doesn't look like you have a team or anything. Usually girls like you have at least one or two companions, you know." She leaned forward as she said that, almost as if she was giving out some very important life information. (Melanie tried hard to keep a straight face.) "Me? I'm sort of a loner. But girls like you usually don't do that well alone. So what? Do you make it your duty to go around helping others selflessly or something?" Her brow furrowed slightly. "Your thoughts are back, by the way. Good. This'll stop sounding like a one-sided conversation." She grinned half-heartedly at Melanie, but the girl didn't react. "I know you want me to go away, but before I do, can I ask you a quick question?" She paused, raising her hand to tap her lip almost thoughtfully. "What was your wish?"

Melanie's reaction was instant. She actually physically recoiled from surprise. She had been thinking of any number of other questions, but asking a girl what her wish was was almost a taboo. It was something even companions didn't share with each other, let alone strangers.

The girl laughed. She _actually_ laughed! "Calm down. I'll admit, that was rude, but I wasn't expecting you to tell me or anything. Just wanted to get a reaction." She sighed disappointedly. "Although the reaction was a little more physical than I was hoping. I didn't really get much from your thoughts at all."

Melanie couldn't help it anymore. She tried to regain control, smoothing out her skirt (more from habit than anything else), and then swung her head up to meet the girl's eyes defiantly. "Stay out of my head!" she snapped, her voice coming out much sharper than she'd imagined.

This seemed to startle Anita. "Whoa, she speaks! Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just really curious about people in general." She dropped her arms to her sides, swinging them casually. "That was my wish, you know, and I don't really care who knows it. I wanted to understand people. The problem is, most people I meet don't like me, so I suppose it didn't exactly work out the way I wanted it to. That's why I have to stay away from most people, and admire from afar." She looked at Melanie almost apologetically. "I'll let you keep your thoughts to yourself from now on. I know I'm breaking more than a few social rules every time I read someone's mind without permission, but I can't really help myself." With that, the girl turned on her heel. "You're probably not happy with me right now, not that you ever were to begin with. I mean, this is one hell of a way for me to pay off a debt, right? And a nice conversation to have in the middle of doomsday. So I'll leave now. Sorry again. And thanks for saving my ass. Really."

As she turned, her costume flickered and vanished with a flash of orange light (so at least now, she couldn't do her mind-reading trick anymore). Melanie's eyes instantly widened at the sight of the girl's regular clothing. She was wearing leggings that were actually intact with no holes or tears, a long comfortable-looking sweater that seemed brand new, and although her braided hair had been slightly mussed and bloodied during the earlier fight, it was threaded with silky white ribbons that tied it off at the end. Other than the fine layer of dust coating her (no one could escape that), she looked very well groomed compared to the norm.

Melanie couldn't stop staring. She hadn't seen such a well-dressed girl in a long time, let alone a magical girl. Most magical girls wore rags that barely covered their bodies. Melanie herself had been wearing the same regular clothes for over two weeks now, and she was nearing the time where she would become so desperate that she might consider searching for remains of stores so she could try to scavenge a new set of clothing. Transforming was almost a relief because somehow, her magic preserved the clothes she fought in.

"Yeah," Anita said, seeing the way Melanie looked at her. "I'm a rich kid. Or about as rich as you can get around now. I'm not proud of it, but there's no point in moping about it either – not when half the people I come across are starving. It's a pretty messed up world, right?"

Melanie, of course, didn't answer.

Anita shifted rather uncomfortably, pulling awkwardly at the hem of her sweater. "Look, I don't know how to say this properly, so I'll just come out and say it the way I'm thinking it. This will sound really strange to you because you just met me and all, but I sorta like you. Just from your thoughts, mind you, since you've said a total of five words since we met. But they're a lot more complicated than others, and they're not focused on things I'd expect a typical magical girl to be thinking about. I'm interested in people in general, but you're sort of a stick-out for me." She became even more focused on fumbling with a loose thread she'd found on her sweater as she continued. "I don't usually make this offer because most people I come across just up and leave and don't listen to me go on and on all day, or they try to beat me up when they find out I'm digging into their stash of secrets… but I'm guessing you look pretty rough when you don't look like that, right? I can help you. I'll get you some new clothes, maybe some refreshments while I'm at it. And I'll even throw some Grief Cubes into the deal; I've got some clean ones stored at my house."

Melanie stared at her. The girl really could talk. She briefly wondered if Anita was making the invitation so she could get the opportunity to read her mind on a deeper level, and said, "So you can read my mind, right?"

The other girl only laughed. "Nice, you talked again! Well, I won't say that's not what I'm after, but you can always block me if I go too far, right?" She shrugged. "I'm not gonna force you or anything. I mean, I'd offer to take in most homeless people if I could, interesting or not. We have to help each other while we still can. But I guess there's just something they find wrong with the whole thing, and I don't blame them. That's why I don't go around pretending I'm something I'm not. I'm not very street-smart, but I'm people-smart, at least. And to me, those are two different things." She turned away again, still speaking. "Well, I'm gonna go before the miasma around here thickens again. God knows I'm done with hunting for the day. I just wanna get out before this area's swarmed again. And I need to prepare for some journey I have to go on soon." She waved briefly, just raising her hand an inch. "It was nice meeting you, however strange that might have been. Keep on, uh… thinking."

Melanie blinked and she was gone. It didn't surprise her. Magical girls could generally move quite fast. What bothered her was the encounter itself. That girl had not acted normal at all. Of course, she wasn't living off the street, scrounging off of what little other people left behind, sleeping in dumpsters, and constantly on the run to avoid demons. She was probably living in a nice, urban (that word was almost historical now) place that was so cheerful that no demons ever approached. She probably hunted more for the thrill of it, not the need. And what had she said? She had spare Grief Cubes at her house? Melanie had never met another magical girl who had extra Grief Cubes (although some desperate girls would go ahead and try to look for them on others anyways). But besides that, the girl was a mindreader. The was never a good thing, although Melanie had only ever come across one other mindreader, and she had been with a group of other girls, assisting them during the battle in reading the demons' hardly human train of thoughts. That's usually where their skills worked best. But this girl not only worked solo, but also thought she could go around and read the mind of anyone she wanted to. That was something akin to arrogance; few people took kindly to having their thoughts spied on, and even fewer wouldn't raise a fist against it. Melanie had just been taken aback by the girl's forwardness and her willingness to breach social protocol. To say she was strange wasn't even close to describing her.

And yet she'd called Melanie 'interesting'. Melanie was a girl who liked to be invisible – no, she wanted to be invisible. How could she possibly be interesting? All she did was live to survive, like most others, helping when and if she could. She'd seen her fair share of tragedy and unnecessary violence, just the same as everyone else. She wasn't anything extraordinary. Even having a not-so-pleasant past wasn't unusual for a magical girl, especially in this day and age. She hadn't even been a magical girl long enough to call herself a veteran (although just managing to survive that long should give her some commendation). No, there was nothing she could think of that would make her a stick-out.

 _That girl was most likely trying to trick you,_ she told herself firmly. _She was probably going to force me to cooperate with her or protect her until she got home or something._ It wasn't like that hadn't happened before, what with her ability.

So she shouldn't think anything of it. That girl had just talked a lot more than the average person she came across. There was nothing else to it. That day had been a little more social than usual, that's all. And the apocalypse tended to have odd effects on people. It shouldn't be something that made her feel so uneasy.

But it still did. Solen Bridge and that girl, Anita. Even something she saw a lot like Soul Gems that mysteriously vanished at death. She couldn't quite figure out why, but the Solen Bridge incident had disturbed her the most. Now that some time had passed after the encounter with the dying girl, she took a moment to actually think about it. What she'd gotten out of it was that she was supposed to go to the bridge because that's where other magical girls were headed. All… converging in one spot? It seemed a little odd to think about. After all, she'd never had such close interaction with any magical girl until the catastrophe and even then, magical girls only helped each other when strictly necessary, so bringing every surviving girl in the world to one place seemed crazy – no, impossible. The catastrophe had forced them to reluctantly cooperate, but even then, they saw little of each other. And why would they even want to gather in the first place? There was only one reason she could think of, but even then, it seemed unlikely.

 _It's nothing,_ she tried to convince herself, irritated that she was still worrying over it. And irritated even more at the fact that she was still thinking about the offer the girl she had just saved made. What was wrong with her? She never usually dwelt this much on random encounters, even if there was more talking than usual.

Silence. That was her companion, her only friend. Silence was her protector and it had failed that day. Against that girl who had spoken of something unimaginable and Anita, who had bypassed several social rules in the matter of a few minutes. And what had she said about a journey…?

…She had to find her. For no other reason except that maybe she could score an easy meal.

No, no. She couldn't afford to be that impulsive. She had only lived for herself up until then, so why would she start relying on someone to feed her? Why open herself up to the prospect of being read like a book again?

She realized she was standing there, almost stupidly, biting her lip as her thoughts conflicted with each other. She really was too much of a thinker. If she was going to do something, she may as well just do it. Doing something sounded a lot nicer than sitting and waiting for action to come to her (or being killed by a demon).

She didn't know why. She didn't know if she could stop herself.

She headed in the direction Anita had just left in.  



	2. Uneasy Balance

The girl fought alone, a fierce determination blazing in her eyes as she shot down demon after demon with her silver pistol.

Survival. That's all she could think about. Survival. Not for herself, but for the little boy clutching her grey skirt in fear. He was the reason why she fought – the reason why she would keep hoping, even in a world like this, even with her own shattered dreams and aspirations.

She was fighting on what used to be a beautifully-paved walkway by the sea. The sea was littered with debris and large chunks of what used to be tall buildings, but it was at its normal level. It had receded from the land in the recent weeks, leaving behind a trail of destruction, although it allowed her to return from the high ground on the outskirts of the city and scout for stray demons. She was faced with the fact that she would soon be forced to leave permanently. Any humans who had survived the destruction of their city would be far away now, so demon production would go down considerably. As well, any other magical girls who were taking advantage of the situation would also be moving on, taking the few Grief Cubes they'd managed to harvest with them. If she wanted to stay alive, she'd have to follow the humans. That meant leaving Kasamino, the city she'd lived in all her life.

For that moment, however, she tried not to think about it. Right now, she was fighting to stay alive and protect her brother.

The demons flickered around her, and she kept safely out of range of their attacks, aiming at the lead demon and firing before it could come close enough to harm her. The boy huddled against her, and she put a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. She never liked this part, but she couldn't leave him alone for a second, not even when she was fighting.

She felt a disturbance to her left, a thickening of the miasma, and spun quickly, shooting into the murky haze.

The demons were coming from two directions now.

She had used a considerable amount of magic in the last fight she'd been involved in, so using it now would be risky, especially with this amount of demons.

"Okay, Jiro, it's time to leave," she said to the boy as her pistol dissolved in her hand. She hated to leave without even getting the chance to collect the cubes, but she could come back later. Getting her brother out was top priority. She bent, gathering him up in her arms, and turned in the opposite direction of the demons, unaware of a rushing sound from above her that was slowly getting louder.

She had started running in the opposite direction of the demons and looked back briefly in time to see a flash of bright light, almost blinding her (so used was she to the dark, grey world), and she slowed to a stop and watched as another girl appeared among the demons, fully garbed in a magical girl outfit. The silver girl stared through the thick white mist, not quite believing her eyes. She dimly saw a pair of large, white wings fade behind the newcomer as she raised a black bow.

Help. She couldn't be more grateful.

"Are we gonna go back now, Kaneko-onee-chan?" Jiro asked, prodding her.

Kaneko shook her head to clear it and smiled at her brother. "Yeah," she said. "Hold on, okay? I don't have to put you down to do this."

Resting the boy on her hip, Kaneko summoned her silver gun again and strode back towards the fight. The other girl was slowly clearing the area of demons with brief flashes of purple light. Kaneko had heard rumours… Rumours of a mysterious winged girl with a saviour complex. But angels didn't exist. Not in this darkened world, dirtied by the sin of humanity.

Still, she raised her pistol and shot down the demons coming from her left. The girl covered the walkway ahead of her until the miasma cleared enough for Kaneko to deem it was safe. She peered closely at the other girl as she released her weapon and adjusted her grip on Jiro.

The girl was bent, probably collecting the Grief Cubes scattered on the ground. At length, she straightened and turned, brushing her long black hair from her face. Her hand lingered near a bright red ribbon tied in her hair, which seemed completely out of place and looked unbelievably brand new. Kaneko tried not to look for too long, conscious of her own ragged clothing beneath her outfit. As the girl's eyes fell on her, she couldn't help but shiver. They, like the red ribbon, looked… wrong somehow. They were distant and… sad. The sort of wistful sadness that Kaneko was used to seeing on older people, who had seen their fair share of tragedies without being able to do anything but accept them – people who were slowly weathered down with grief and burden. It didn't fit on the face of someone so young even if they were a magical girl, which was what unsettled Kaneko. It didn't even match with the looks of despair that she'd seen too many times in the last little while.

Still, the other girl didn't look like a threat, so Kaneko set Jiro lightly on the ground next to her and bowed politely as she approached. "Thank you. I'm Arakawa Kaneko, and this is my brother, Jiro. You didn't have to help us, but you did. That saves me a lot of grief later."

The other girl smiled slightly, although it didn't extend past her mouth. Kaneko suppressed another shiver, although that time it may as well have been the miasma.

"Think nothing of it," the girl said, handing Kaneko her share of Grief Cubes. "Grief is never a good thing for magical girls, after all."

Kaneko took the cubes gratefully and raised them to press against the Soul Gem on her forehead. "Don't I know it," she sighed.

"My eyes are itchy," Jiro complained, raising a fist to rub them.

Kaneko shook her head at him firmly, bending over slightly. "You mustn't rub, Jiro-kun. Okay? That won't help them get better."

As she spoke, the other girl retreated slowly, back into the haze of dust. When Kaneko looked back towards her, she was gone. Kaneko, remembering the rumours and the sight she'd seen when the girl had first entered the battle, raised her eyes skyward and saw a black shape moving in the sky, most prominently defined by the outline of a pair of wings. She frowned. Could the rumours possibly be true…? That girl certainly didn't seem like it, although everything pointed to it. Kaneko couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. She wasn't a saviour at all; she was just another magical girl fighting a hopeless battle for a day that would never come.

Jiro reluctantly took his hand away from his eyes and tugged at his sister's sleeve insistently. "Who was she, Kaneko-onee-chan?"

The girl looked down at her brother affectionately, although her gaze was distant. "She won't tell anyone her name," she said slowly, reciting what she'd heard, "so they've started calling her the angel. She's been going around, helping other magical girls."

"An angel!" the boy gasped in wonder, his eyes widening as he stared at where the girl had disappeared moments before. "Do you think there's such a thing as real angels, onee-chan?"

Kaneko looked up again, her eyes darkening noticeably as she passed a hand over her sweaty brow. "No," she said in a suddenly tired voice. "There are certainly no angels in this godforsaken world."

* * *

The swirling dust was blinding, choking. Homura could expel it a certain amount using her magic, but it was never a long-lived relief. Staying transformed all the time was something only strong magical girls could afford to do, although she did not stick to that principle for reasons of her own. Keeping track of and controlling accumulation of grief was much more difficult than ignoring the dust. Besides, being a magical girl gave one a special ability. To become detached from your own body and not depend on it as much anymore. In other words, she could let herself choke on dust without really being affected at all. If nothing else, that was what Sayaka had taught her. Separation.

As well as expelling dust, Homura extended her senses as far as they could go, searching for more demons in the area. Of course there were some, but she couldn't detect the presence of any magical girls. She had quite a lot of Grief Cubes already, so she decided to head "home".

It wasn't long before the little rundown house she shared with her two companions, Mami and Kyoko, came into view. The house was a temporary residence, like anywhere else they stayed to keep a safe distance away from wandering demons. It was in surprisingly good shape, compared to other places they'd taken refuge in, and for the most part, no one bothered them. But Kasamino wasn't the ideal city for an overly large population of magical girls, with its small numbers of demons. If that day had been any indicator of the competition they faced, they would be searching for another place to stay soon.

As for Mami and Kyoko, Homura still couldn't bring herself to leave them, even if it would have been easy to do. She was strong, so she could survive on her own, and she rarely even relied on those two anyways, so used was she to fighting and living on her own terms. But something always drew her back to them, and she owed them much apart from battle. They were the ones who had brought her back many times while she was despairing of this world she'd been left in, and comforted her during her nightmares and hallucinations. They offered her friendship that she had never chosen to seek in the previous lifetimes she'd known them. When she began to see them as teammates rather than obstacles, they really weren't that bad, if only a little bit unstable. Mami, with her idealistic views of the world and being a magical girl. And Kyoko, who always tried to play tough even when the world was breaking around her. Neither of them had changed much from world to world.

And of course, there was Madoka, the girl who had brought them together in the first place. If she willed it, Homura would comply. She'd always been fond of other people, but she'd been especially fond of those two, although Homura had gradually forgotten why. Mami had tried to persuade Madoka to become a magical girl. Kyoko had kept dragging her into unnecessary danger. And yet Madoka saw them as special friends and always cried when they died. So Homura would keep them alive in this world for her, if just to keep the smile on her face. And because that was surely what she would want her to do. That was why she even bothered to stop and help others – just to keep something good alive in the world Madoka had created and left for her to safeguard.

Mami and Kyoko were suffering in their own way because of recent circumstances, so it was all Homura would do to keep them out of trouble. Although it was Mami who was usually the one trying to keep them together. She was always the one who looked crestfallen after Homura returned from a solo hunt, and would demand a reason why even though Homura never yielded. Then Kyoko would complain about her being patronizing.

It was almost like a loop. She wasn't expecting anything different this time. Mami and Kyoko would never let go of their ideals, after all.

Homura alighted just outside of the door and traded her magical girl attire for her torn school uniform and black jacket before stepping inside, settling for a neutral expression as she did. The house had no door, so she could already see what she was in for.

Mami was waiting just beyond the entrance like always, and ran to her immediately. "Homura-chan!" she exclaimed. "Where have you–"

Homura interrupted her by tossing her the appropriate amount of Grief Cubes without a word.

"God, Mami-san, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out," came a highly irritated voice from the back of the room where Kyoko was slumped across a couch, a scowl etched onto her face. She grudgingly accepted her share of cubes without looking at Homura. "Where do you think she goes every time she sneaks off? Don't tell me you haven't figured out her game by now."

"I always get worried when you leave with no warning like that, you know," Mami said fretfully. "I'm afraid you're–"

"I won't leave you two alone," Homura cut her off quietly, pressing the remaining Grief Cubes against her darkened violet Soul Gem. "I'll always come back, no matter what, so there's no need to worry." This process was always a bit like a recitation, with Homura saying a variation of the same thing each time. The only difference about these loops was that Mami and Kyoko remembered each one.

Well, some things never changed.

"That's not a good enough excuse," said Mami, shaking her head. "You've been going off more and more lately, I've noticed, when you promised you'd stop. I don't like it, and I've told you that much. It's dangerous now, so nothing will come of acting carelessly, even if you're confident it'll turn out alright. I'm really worried about you, Homura-chan."

"Tomoe Mami," said Homura. For some reason, that always struck home. Mami insisted on using familiar honourifics for both Homura and Kyoko to suggest a more close relationship with the both of them, and apparently, up until her arrival in this world, the old Homura had responded in kind.

"I'll be fine," she finished, shoving her spent Grief Cubes into her jacket pocket to dispose of later.

"But Homura-chan…" Mami trailed off, biting her lip.

"Oh, cut the crap already," Kyoko complained, interrupting the usual exchange.

Homura only glanced at her for a second before focusing her gaze on her Soul Gem.

Kyoko tossed her half-spent cubes into the air while she spoke, catching them easily as they fell. "The 'tough guy' act isn't really working out for you – especially not now. I mean, even I know my limits. What happens if you get killed out there? Then I know for sure you ain't coming back."

Homura looked at Kyoko directly, tilting her head almost passively. "I'm only stating the truth. I know how to take care of myself."

"I don't give a damn whether you can defeat a hundred demons by yourself," said Kyoko, clearly unfazed by Homura's cool tone. She stood, pushing her mane of red hair from her face and glared at Homura. "Mami-san's got the whole 'peace and harmony' deal going on, which I couldn't care less about. Here's what I think." Here, she jabbed a finger in Homura's direction, as if to make a point. "You think you can come and go whenever you want, and we won't care or even get mad. You're doing it to take care of us or to assert your leadership over us or whatever. I dunno and I don't care. But it seriously pisses me off. If that's how you think it should be, then maybe you shouldn't come back at all. I don't like being looked down on. I can take care of myself and fight my own battles and get my own Grief Cubes. I mean, if we're not a team, we're not a team. We should stop pretending and call it as it is. I'm tired of you doing whatever you want whenever you want and getting away with it."

Homura met Kyoko's gaze evenly. Her tirade was a little different from normal with the same point. But Mami would come to the rescue. She always did.

This time, she didn't.

"I won't be as brash as Kyoko-chan," said Mami slowly. "But I agree with her, in my own way. Homura-chan, if you're doing this to protect us, I can't accept that. We're magical girls. We fight demons. If we can't do that, we feel–"

"Like we're not worth shit," Kyoko finished bluntly.

Mami blinked, but continued smoothly. "We want to put in our fair share. We're a team, so we should all contribute. Otherwise, we're only separate parts making up a whole and operating independently. That's not the same thing as unity." She frowned, as if there was something she wanted to add, but didn't know how to put it. "Honestly, Homura-chan," she said at last, glancing at the raven-haired girl almost shyly, "I'd be interested to know what you think of us. If you thought we could handle ourselves, you wouldn't try so hard to 'protect' us, if that's what you're really doing. I don't understand how you decided that or why. We don't need to be protected, and not so long ago, we were the ones doing the protecting." Her eyes turned almost sympathetic. "I want to help you. I really do. I just wish I knew how."

That put Homura on the spot, and she deepened her frown to hide her disconcertion. How could she reply to that honestly? The fact was, she couldn't. She would have to lie to appease Mami and Kyoko.

Mami liked to pretend they were friends. Anything was better than being alone. So she worked hard to try and keep them together and acted like she was well-acquainted with both of them. She was someone Sayaka had called a 'hero of justice'. But she had sacrificed too much to gain that title. She was their 'senior' (although nowadays, that only accounted for appearance), but she was fragile and needed them to keep her stable. In every world, Mami had tried playing the stoic, but couldn't keep up. Something had broken in her mind long ago, and was only kept together by the faint illusion of comradeship. If that was ever taken away from her, she'd crumble.

Kyoko was someone who'd seen her fair share of tragedies and shut out the world in response. But she was a child inside – the same child who had seen her father fall apart. She hadn't changed, really. She was someone who believed in love and courage, despite her better judgement, and tried to bring that to reality in her own way.

Homura had seen them again and again – analyzed them again and again. And yet in this situation, her motive for doing so was different, and she couldn't rely on her past judgements to help her. She had no way of pushing her own will forward without losing their support. One wrong word and they might send her away. Aside from them being connected to Madoka, she faintly remembered having idolized them in a lifetime long ago, when she had almost been a different person. And something of that person was coming up now – a part of her she thought had died. It was the person who had understood why Mami and Kyoko were admirable people worth knowing. It was a person who was terrified at the thought of having to leave.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, and she packed away her pride – packed away everything that formed the wall between her and the two other girls. What she was even apologizing for, she wasn't sure. For looking down on them? Or for all the times she'd watched them die? Could they even understand if she apologized for that? There were far too many things she could apologize for, and looking at them now, she wondered what would happen if she tried to start explaining. They wouldn't believe her, of course, and maybe she'd lose the little bit of sanity that was still keeping her from falling over the edge.

How would Madoka talk to them?

Hah. She wasn't anything like Madoka at all. That was probably why she was here.

"Tomoe-san, Sakura-san," she continued, and she hated how unsure she sounded. Who was she now – the awkward, demure schoolgirl with heart disease, or the aloof, hardened warrior, fighting a losing battle? Was there even a tie between the two, or was she now someone completely different? "I've fought alone for a long time now, so I've come to forget– I take your company for granted, but I don't think about how that's affected you." She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose. This was the most she'd ever talked about herself like this to others. But there was no turning back now. "There was a time when I thought I couldn't rely on anyone. Since then, all I've known is fighting alone. But now that things are–" She caught herself before she let something more slip. "–different, I think I'd rather have companions. That's what I'd like to come to see you as." She opened her eyes and looked at Mami and Kyoko, as if to appeal to them. "Please let me stay, and we'll fight together from now on." Here, she looked pointedly at Kyoko. "I have no interest in power. I'd just like to stay. I'm not the person you knew before, but I still want to stay."

She stopped talking, her voice having gotten quieter as she'd gone on. How much did she mean those words? Did she even intend to keep them?

Mami reacted right away, coming forward and putting her hand on Homura's arm. The contact startled Homura, and she looked up sharply, meeting the blonde's eyes.

"We were never going to send you away, Homura-chan," said Mami gently. "We're just worried about you, that's all, especially because of recent events. But I'm glad to hear that. I want you to stay and fight with us." She looked over at the couch. "What about you, Kyoko-chan?"

The redhead snorted. "Yeah. Whatever. As long as you do what you say, I'm all for it. I'm also interested in why you're out for so long, since the number of cubes you bring back just doesn't match up. But I guess that's another story." She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger. "Goddamn this dust. I'm seriously in a bad mood right now."

"Yes, we know, Kyoko-chan," Mami said, her mouth twitching upwards.

The conversation apparently had changed direction, and Homura breathed out in relief. Still, the whole exchange had unsettled her. She wasn't even sure if everything she'd said had been sincere, since she'd spoken without thinking of what she was going to say. And she didn't know how she felt about it either. She certainly didn't want to leave Mami and Kyoko – although the reasons for that were probably beyond their understanding. It was probably best to leave well enough alone at that point.

"I want to talk about something else," Mami began hesitantly when the silence extended for a few moments.

Oh no.

"It's about Sayaka," she said. Kyoko groaned loudly, but she continued anyways. "I know it's been about two months now that she's been gone, but I'm worried about you two – especially you, Homura-chan. This seems like a good time to bring this back up because of what you just said. You've been acting completely different, and hunting by yourself is only one example. Then there are these nightmares you keep having, among... other things. I know you don't think it, but you really have changed."

She looked genuinely worried. It was the kind of face that always made Homura cringe.

She couldn't deny those words, though. Before she'd woken in this world as the person who'd survived an eternal maze and the end of a universe elsewhere, she had been someone else, akin to the person she'd been lifetimes ago in that first timeline. An almost forgotten timeline. In just the course of one battle, Mami and Kyoko had seen that shy, sickly girl transform into… her, without any transitions or explanations along the way. She'd walked into the battle as one person and walked out as someone else. That didn't happen everyday.

Although, in many ways, she hadn't become the person she'd been at the end of the final timeline. Something inside her was wavering – cracking – and it was beyond her control. Losing Madoka forever and waking in this world where, somehow, nothing had changed and everything was normal was a little too much. She was so used to waking up in a hospital bed and rushing to save Madoka – rushing to defeat Walpurgisnacht, rushing to stop Kyubey, rushing, rushing, rushing, while knowing that she had already done it hundreds of times and could do it hundreds more – that waking in this world where her purpose had drastically changed was a brutal shock to her system. In the first few days, she kept having to remind herself of several things: she did not have a shield on her left arm anymore, she was not the enemy of Mami or Kyoko but a teammate, killing Kyubey in front of them was a bad idea and it was somehow a friend of hers in this world, she was not trying to save Kaname Madoka. The last was the hardest to come to terms with and something she still struggled with. It was bending her psyche in two ways, and when the strain became too much, she would snap and let go of reality until Mami or Kyoko brought her back. It had happened frequently in the days following her arrival to this world, and even then, she was struggling to keep it under control and push it under a thin layer of calm – the screaming, the crying, the panicking when she couldn't find her shield, and incoherent blabbering about the craziest things that made no sense at all. Her meltdowns were events Mami and Kyoko had no idea how to handle or explain. All they could say was that she had changed, although they had no idea why. It perturbed them, and they didn't try to hide it. She hadn't even been that close with Sayaka, so why had she changed so much in just that one battle?

Of course, she couldn't explain anything to them because they would never understand. The memory of that world was her burden alone in this world – the sacrifice she had to make for remembering Madoka. And somedays, when her breakdowns really got out of control, she would curse the fact that she could even remember the pinkette in a world where she didn't exist. She always regretted it afterwards. Madoka had been the one who had fixed the mess she had made. This was the kindest punishment she could ever give her. She was always too kind to the least deserving.

Instead of thinking of some sort of apology or excuse or long-winded explanation, Homura avoided the statement completely.

"I'm fine," she mumbled evasively, hoping Mami wouldn't press the issue. She could already feel a sort of fuzziness in her head as her thoughts threatened to carry her away…

Mami opened her mouth, but Kyoko interrupted her.

"I ain't intending to sound disrespectful or anything, but if you really think we're still hung up over that, you gotta get over it already. Let's face it, we were pretty messed up before Sayaka died, right? And it's not like she was a lover to any of us or whatever. Let it rest."

The redhead shot a look quickly at Homura after she spoke, but it was enough to tell her that she was still curious, regardless of her comment.

Mami looked like she wanted to say something, but probably figured that arguing with Kyoko wasn't worth it, so she slumped in defeat and let the subject drop. Homura made no move to continue to the conversation either, and instead let out her breath to clear her head. She was content to let things be after managing to settle things with the two. Anyways, Sayaka was a subject that she preferred to skirt around whenever she could. It brought up too many unpleasant things.

"I'm hungry," Kyoko declared, getting to her feet. "All this arguing really takes a lot of energy. Is there anything left?"

"Just a few cans of soup," Mami said passively.

Kyoko looked disappointed, but shrugged, and walked into what used to be the house's kitchen. Mami glanced at Homura quickly before she followed her to point the way to where she'd stored what little nonperishable food remained in the house.

Homura stayed where she was. She was still uneasy about what had just happened, and now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure how she fit into the trio. Normally, she tried to keep her distance. That was easier than opening herself up to the prospect of a messy relationship between two people she'd never understood and had never tried to understand. Maybe that had been a mistake. After all, in this world, the point was for them to be kept alive for as long as possible. Continuing the way she was now would slowly edge her out of the group until she was no longer a part of it at all.

Of course, no matter what she did, she always made a mess of things. The only difference was that now there were no redos. If she didn't get it right the first time, she wouldn't get another chance at all. That was scary. Having her memories didn't exactly help her get along with them either, since all she could remember from her time loops was pushing them away and warning them off (although there were those very distant memories of eating cake with Mami and being gently teased by Kyoko). That was the only way she knew how to handle them now. Yet they were the ones who were privy to her moments of hysteria, and they were no longer letting her abnormal actions slide. Sooner or later, she was going to have to rethink her approach.

Raised voices sounded from inside the pantry, although Homura didn't move. Mami and Kyoko were old friends who had differences, so it didn't concern her.

She ran a hand through her greasy black hair. When had she last washed herself? Her clothes were a mess – not even magic could maintain them. At that moment, she'd give anything for a shower.

"Hey, Homura-chan, come and get some food before Kyoko-chan takes it all," came Mami's voice after some time.

Homura didn't feel like calling back and saying she wasn't hungry, so she obliged, joining Mami at the door to the pantry. It was open and Kyoko was nowhere to be seen. The blonde handed her a can of what looked like tomato soup, although it was so dusted with dirt and the words on the label had been washed off that she couldn't exactly tell.

Mami was frowning slightly as she looked to into the storeroom and then at the girl next to her. "You must be hungry after being away for so long," she addressed Homura in a neutral voice.

Homura shook her head, her eyes fixed intently on the ruined label of the can.

Mami reached over and lowered the can, forcing Homura to look up. "I'm not mad at you for anything, Homura-chan," she said gently. "And I'm happy about what you said earlier, if you really mean it."

"I do," said Homura. Maybe she did really mean it.

"That's good," said Mami, smiling. "But sometime, I want to talk to you about other things. I'm sure you already know what." Her face became grim. "Especially in a situation like this, I don't think we should have any regrets. So we should do what we can while we can do it instead of trying to smooth it over with cheerful faces."

Homura eyed her carefully. Sometimes, she couldn't really decide how sincere Mami was being. "Do you really believe that, Tomoe-san?"

"Yes, of course." Mami blinked confusedly. "We might not get another chance to say what needs to be said. I want to repair any damage that's been done in the past few weeks, so we'll be strong enough to face whatever else comes our way."

"So you're expecting this to get worse," Homura mused quietly.

"It can always get worse," Mami said simply, shrugging.

Homura frowned. Mami had definitely changed, that was for sure, although she still wasn't sure why that was.

"I'm glad you've decided to fight with us," said Mami again, almost as if reminding Homura of what she said would help encourage her to uphold it. "I think we should go out on patrol later. The three of us. If you're up to it."

"I am," said Homura. "I'll join you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud clattering in the back of the pantry.

"Thank God this was locked up so tightly." Kyoko's high-pitched voice echoed out. "It's a little damp in here, but everything looks good. I don't really care what I eat right now as long as it's not cockroaches." She emerged, with an armful of cans and packages hugged to her chest protectively, then marched into the kitchen to sort through them.

Mami smiled at Homura, although she looked somewhat weary. "Well, at least Kyoko-chan will be in a better mood now."

"Damn right," Kyoko said. She was standing at the counter, brushing off the layer of dust in vain so she could put down her haul. "Mami-san, I can't believe you knew about this and didn't tell me. Who does that? Seriously!"

"I knew you'd eat it all at once," said Mami. "I had to at least give the impression that I was rationing."

"To who?" Kyoko snorted. "We're gonna be out of here in the next couple days – and we're in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse – so who cares about rationing?"

"Leave some for the rest of us, please," Mami said a little more firmly in way of response, striding over to Kyoko's position to help her with the food. Kyoko stepped over begrudgingly to let her in.

After a moment of listening to the two murmuring back and forth, Homura walked over to them, still gripping her own can of soup.

"Are we taking any of this with us?" she asked, eyeing the pile of cans and boxes Kyoko had organized into separate piles.

Mami frowned. "If we can. And if Kyoko-chan here doesn't eat it all first. But since she doesn't believe in rationing, you might want to take what you'll need now."

"Okay, fine," said Kyoko, opening a random can and sniffing it experimentally. "I guess we don't know when we'll find something like this again, so we should stock up a bit. But for now, excuse me if I want to have a chance to eat my fill."

Mami paused for a moment, then sighed. "Go ahead."

"I was going to anyways," said Kyoko around a mouthful of what looked like meat.

"Kyoko-chan, I was wondering if you're up for a patrol later," Mami said, speaking over the redhead's loud chewing.

"Yeah, sure," said Kyoko around the crackers in her mouth, then glanced at Homura out of the corner of her eye. "All of us?"

"Yes," said Mami, patting Homura's arm.

There was a period of silence as Kyoko wolfed down as much food as she could, and Homura half-heartedly drank her can of soup. It was cold and slimy, but otherwise it tasted alright. She was also thirsty, but finding drinkable liquids was much harder than finding edible food, so she would have to hold out for a while.

"The messes we get ourselves into," Kyoko said at length. "I mean, being a magical girl is tough by itself and then the whole world goes and blows up on us. It's like the universe wants us dead or whatever. Remind me whose idea this stupid apocalypse was anyways?"

Mami's brow furrowed at the almost rhetorical question and she reached up habitually to fiddle with one of her curls. Like Homura, she'd only consumed one can of soup. "No one knows, Kyoko-chan."

"If I ever get my hands on them, I swear…" said Kyoko, her threat left hanging as she dumped the last of a can's contents in her mouth and set it down. "You have not seen me really pissed until you take away all my food and force me to ration. I don't ration."

"You're going to have to learn how to," said Mami sensibly. "And taking it out on someone isn't going to reverse this, you know."

"Yeah, I know," said Kyoko irritably. "But I'm sure I'm not the only one, right?"

Homura listened silently, her eyes fixed on the counter. She knew what Kyoko was talking about, having figured it out fairly quickly – in time to warn Mami and Kyoko well before events started spiralling downwards. Now they were still picking up the pieces, even though this situation was as close to unsalvageable as it could get.

Only a week after being delivered to this world, everything had changed. She was still struggling to adjust to her new existence, and then everything was jumbled up again, as if the universe was taunting her.

It had started the day Kyubey did not show up to collect the Grief Cubes she'd harvested from that day's demon hunt.


	3. The Beginning of the End

_Approximately three months ago..._

Homura straightened up with her handful of Grief Cubes and banished her outfit with a flash of purple light. Another successful hunt heralded an inevitable visit from the Incubator and a lecture from Mami later.

Homura decided to wait for Kyubey in the nearby park, and she took her time walking there. She remembered taking the exact same route so many times before, always to save Madoka. Each time had been a frantic race to get there before the Incubator posed another temptation. Several times she had been too late and been forced to turn back time again. There was nothing more frustrating to her than coming so far and then losing to a few precisely timed propositions the Incubator had offered Madoka. Of course the pink-haired girl could never turn down the chance to save her friend, so it was just a matter of Homura arriving before Madoka said, "I wish".

Now, however, she was going to the park for different reasons, in a completely different world, and her goal wasn't to kill Kyubey, but to talk with it. She called it 'parley' to avoid forming any sort of attachment to the creature. That would be hard to do anyways, but it had a way of being able to sense one's weaknesses and exploit them. Its harmless appearance was just one of its many tricks. It was slightly less of a villain in this world, since its job wasn't to raise girls to become witches anymore but simply to grant wishes, but otherwise, it was still the same Kyubey.

Homura walked past the lit-up fountain and took a seat on a bench – the very bench Madoka had sat on in many lifetimes. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture the pinkette sitting where she was, talking to the Incubator about power and wishes…

But not in this world, of course. Madoka would never sit here again. She caught her right hand fumbling with her left arm, out of habit more than anything else, and dropped it.

Homura waited in silence. As well as the Grief Cubes she'd obtained from the battle, she had several used ones from the last few days that she had stored for later.

The night wore on slowly, and the fountain automatically shut itself off, leaving the park in total blackness. Homura summoned her Soul Gem to project enough light to see with, but she was beginning to feel uneasy. The longer she waited, the more she began to feel there was something amiss. Kyubey was always exactly where it was needed. It was never inconvenienced by having to be in multiple places at once. That's what its many bodies were for. And it was certainly never late.

So where was it?

When fatigue began to grip her and she felt her eyelids growing heavy, she decided to leave. After all, Kyubey could always come to her home if it wanted to speak with her. She generally disliked such visits, which was why she opted for a more public space. But if it wasn't going to show up there, a home visit was better than leaving the Grief Cubes to spawn more demons.

So she went home and tried not to think of what might have happened that would make Kyubey late for an appointment it knew it had.

* * *

It didn't show up the next day. Or the next. That was highly unusual, especially for it. As well, Homura was unable to communicate telepathically with Mami or Kyoko, although they'd tried at various spots in the city, meaning Kyubey wasn't in range. She couldn't even sense it, no matter how hard she tried, and Kyubey had made it so that magical girls could sense it easily.

The Incubator did not possess emotions, so its sudden disappearance wasn't a reflection of how it felt towards the girls. It was a creature of sensibility and worked towards the universe's survival. Harvesting the world's grief was the most expedient way to prevent the universe from dying. So if it was shirking that duty, there was something wrong.

Homura wasn't sure what she could say about it, though. And Mami and Kyoko had no idea what might have happened either. So they waited for the Incubator to return, like it always did. Homura found that for the first time since her eternal maze, she was willing the Incubator to appear.

* * *

"I think this is serious," Mami said one day over a cup of tea. She was with Homura and Kyoko in her flat, having invited them there to talk things over. "Kyubey has been missing for five days now. I can't think of a reasonable explanation as to why."

"Well, he must be busy, right?" said Kyoko casually, still chewing her slice of cake. "I mean, he's gotta have a bunch of commitments all over the place. Or maybe he's on vacation."

Homura avoided Kyoko's gaze as she spoke, still having not told her everything about the Incubator's nature.

Mami's expression remained grim as she turned to look at the black-haired girl. "What do you think, Homura-chan?"

"The Incubator would have no reason to avoid us," said Homura. She still couldn't snap out of the habit of calling Kyubey an 'it' or 'the Incubator', even if Mami and Kyoko couldn't understand why or where it had come from. "Therefore, its disappearance has been caused by a force even it cannot control."

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty sinister."

Homura picked at her cake halfheartedly. "I've never had experience with something like this before, so I believe it's worth investigating."

Mami frowned. "What do you mean by 'investigating'? How would we be able to procure information about a being even we don't fully understand?"

"We talk to people who understand us," said Homura simply.

"That would sound great, except most magical girls are pretty territorial, so they wouldn't take kindly to us poking around on their turf," said Kyoko. She stared hungrily at Homura's slice of cake until the latter slid the plate in her direction nonchalantly. Kyoko took it instantly.

"I think it's worth a try," said Homura, folding her hands on the now empty space in front of her. "If only to figure out who's affected by this, and whether or not the Incubator has influence elsewhere."

"Well, no one knows 'the Incubator' better than you do," said Kyoko, imitating Homura when she said 'the Incubator', then smirked at the look on Homura's face. "I mean, you keep talking like you've known him for a long time or whatever. I doubt many other girls have that sort of relationship with him, if you know what I mean."

"I have more experience with it than you do," said Homura in way of reply, her face stony. "Not all of it good."

"Well, whatever," said Kyoko, rolling her eyes. "I suppose this also ties in to whether or not I'm buying this new attitude. But back to the investigation, I personally wouldn't recommend it if you wanna keep outta trouble. But it's your call, I guess."

Mami sighed. "I agree that it will be dangerous to try to approach magical girls from other cities. I think we should wait this out a bit longer first before we take drastic action. If Kyubey hasn't returned by this time next week, I'll think it over again. But for now, let's keep track of our Grief Cubes carefully and keep an eye out for him."

Homura pressed her lips together, but said nothing. Neither Mami nor Kyoko would understand if she tried to explain to them about Kyubey's multiple bodies. The first question would be "How do you know that?" which would lead to awkward explanations that they wouldn't believe.

Once again, it was up to her and her alone.

* * *

Kasamino was about twice the size of Mitakihara, and had attracted thrice the number of magical girls, meaning competition was very fierce. Homura remained in casual clothing as she walked through the city to let her magical presence go unnoticed.

She really had to marvel at how much things had changed. How she was now running errands for the sake of the Incubator. If she thought of it in terms of saving Mitakihara from being overrun by demons, it made her feel a little better. She didn't like to think she was doing it any favours – not after all it had done.

The number of demons was rising at an alarming speed. Spent Grief Cubes paired with the human sin that clogged the city brought forth multitudes of demons each night. Fighting had become more about dodging, killing the right amount to keep alive, and then running. Already, they had lost several civilians that way. Mami was growing desolate, rendered helpless in the situation. No amount of playing the hero would work anymore; they could do nothing beyond fighting for their own survival. The demons were so many that sometimes they even appeared during the day, in shadows cast by buildings, or in cellars. Night was a furious battle to stay alive while day was about careful avoidance.

All because the Incubator was gone.

Homura hadn't come to the city expecting much help. She understood the harsh nature of the system she was a part of. Magical girls were extremely competitive and often worked towards their own goals. They didn't particularly like it when others intruded on their space. This expedition was mainly for observing, rather than reasoning. Although there was one magical girl with whom Homura believed she could settle some matters. A girl she already had experience with and knew how to handle. Dangerous, yes, but nothing she'd never faced before. The bigger worry was running into someone who was more powerful than her with an ability that she had never witnessed.

She was relying on luck and, of course, herself to make sure it all turned out successfully.

She ran into a pair of girls defending a small side street in the city's suburbs from demons and hid nearby, watching the battle. There was a tall girl with dark green hair who was wearing fearsome knight-like armour crafted from magic and was swinging a huge sword around wildly, while her shorter, blonde companion wore a long dress and supported the warrior girl with a rifle. The girls appeared to have been fighting for a while from the sweat dripping down their faces, and each attack seemed weaker than the last. The battle did end in the girls' victory, however, so the demons were not that many.

They didn't waste any time, instantly gathering Grief Cubes dropped by the demons and replenishing their magic.

The short girl said something to her companion, who turned.

"I know you're there," she said loudly. She finished using her Grief Cubes and flung them away into the bushes with a visible scowl on her face. "No one else would sit during a battle unless they could see through the miasma. And Ai-chan here can sense other magical girls miles away, even if they're not using magic."

Homura frowned as she stood. That was a convenient power.

"So she was right." The green-haired girl stared at Homura, narrowing her eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? I've never seen you around before."

"Calm down," said Homura, eyeing both girls cautiously. "I'm not here to steal your territory or take your Grief Cubes."

The short blonde snorted. "Like you could anyway."

"Well, that wasn't the answer I was expecting," her companion said. "If you're not here for territory gain or to get Grief Cubes, why are you here?"

Homura decided to be as blunt as she could, not sure about whether or not the other girls were thinking about how fast they could take her down. "I'm looking for the In– Kyubey."

The greenette pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Haven't see him in about a week now, come to think of it. Damn thing probably took off on us the first chance he got." She shrugged passively. "Not like I was that fond of him anyways."

"Do you have any idea where it might have gone?" Homura pressed, although she was careful. This was their territory, after all. One wrong word might end in a fight and the odds of winning didn't look good for her.

The blonde girl was glaring at Homura suspiciously, but her companion didn't seem to mind all the questions. "Nope, no idea, really," she said. "Like I said, he's been gone for about a week now. That's sort of a record, if you know the Kyubey I'm talking about. Anyways, I'm guessing he'll turn up again, like he always does. I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind whenever that is for giving us all these demons to fight. You should be back at wherever you come from and hope he does come back. Fighting your own wars, you know? This is sorta not the place to show up if you're looking for a friend."

Homura flinched at that, but the green-haired girl didn't notice. She tossed away the last of her Grief Cubes, then nudged the blonde, only glancing back at Homura very briefly. "If you want to find him that badly, good luck, I guess." Then she addressed her companion. "Let's go."

As the two retreated, leaping onto the nearest rooftop, Homura breathed out. She was glad it hadn't ended in a beating, but the conversation hadn't been helpful. Those girls must not know everything about the Incubator, otherwise they would have acted a little more anxious. The Incubator didn't simply disappear for a week.

She would have to be more careful if she wanted to continue investigating. There could be other girls who could sense her presence in the city, and they might not be as appreciative about it.

Still, she wasn't ready to go home. She had to find someone who might be more knowledgeable about the Incubator, or at least of the events surrounding his disappearance.

Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to one person she hoped she'd never see again.

* * *

Central Kasamino was a large and bustling place full of shops, malls, and apartments. Homura stopped at one of the cafés to eat quickly. She had only run into one other magical girl since her first encounter earlier that day, and hadn't learned anything from it except that the girl had also adopted the tactic of throwing her Grief Cubes away after a fight, meaning she too was not counting on the Incubator turning up any time soon. The only things she knew about this city were from Kyoko, so maybe it really didn't have that many magical girls. She couldn't even count on meeting _that_ person here either. She may not have contracted in this world. Right now, everything was based on chance.

She closed her eyes. She was sitting on a bench in the middle of crisscrossing walkways that wound around the shops and off into side streets. Kasamino was a nice city with its fancy decorations and artistic structures, but it was not home. She couldn't afford to get too comfortable here.

If there was one thing that made her uneasy about this world, it was that she never knew what was going to happen. That was one thing that had reopened insecurities she had shut away deep inside. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she slowly changed over the course of her loops. She always knew what was going to happen one way or another. Even in irregular timelines, there were still some continuities. But now, everything was one big unknown. There was no script she could follow or events to make sense of. Once something happened, it was over. There was only one chance for her to handle anything. There wasn't even a way for her to tell if she was doing the right thing.

Then again, there was probably no such thing as 'doing the right thing' for her now. She'd already made such a big mess of everything.

She opened her eyes, her hand reaching up instinctively for her red hair ribbon. It comforted her, almost in a cruel way. Reminding her of Madoka, but also reminding her that Madoka was far out of reach. Still, she could wear it without it triggering anything but sad memories. That was probably for the best. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she lost it, or if she couldn't look at it. She still had the other one stored safely in her house.

"Excuse me?"

A light, pleasant voice reached her ears and Homura tensed, looking up instantly. Her fingers were still trailing over Madoka's ribbon.

A girl was standing in front of her. A very familiar girl. She wore a simple red dress uniform and wore her medium-length silvery-brown hair in a side ponytail. A ring was fitted onto the middle finger of her left hand – the only sign of her true nature. She had green eyes and a polite smile, although there was something in that smile that reminded Homura of Mami. Something that betrayed inner workings.

The girl may not have looked it, but she was a sly murderer and even more crazy than Homura.

"Mikuni Oriko," Homura said. Her voice was steely. "As I expected, you're here and contracted."

Oriko may have been the person she wanted to see, but being polite would be difficult.

Oriko's smile didn't fade. "So you are the girl I saw in my vision. You're lucky I found you when I did. There are other girls who would have given you a good thrashing if they'd found you first, you know." She tilted her head. "I won't ask as to how you know my name, but may I ask why you are here? You're from Mitakihara, right?"

"That's right," said Homura stiffly. She wasn't quite ready to exchange pleasantries with the girl who had killed Madoka more than once. She was used to seeing her as an opponent after all.

But this was a different world, and now they weren't trying to kill each other. She had to remember that.

"Hey, Oriko!" A nearby shout interrupted them as another girl ran over. She wore a familiar Mitakihara Middle School uniform and had short black hair and amber eyes.

Homura narrowed her eyes. This would complicate things.

"Hello, Kirika," said Oriko affectionately, her attention momentarily divided as the girl skidded to a halt at her side. "Did you find anything you liked from the clothes shop?"

"No," said Kirika. She nuzzled into Oriko's arm as she spoke, grinning up at the taller girl. "Nothing that would please you anyways. I can't choose unless you approve first."

Oriko laughed. "Eventually, you should learn to make decisions for yourself about what you want to wear. I can't make those kinds of choices for you."

Kirika's eyes widened. "But I only want to wear what you would find pleasing! I'm not interested in anything else."

"If you say so." Oriko took the girl by the shoulders and turned her to face her. "I'll come next time then, okay? I really wish you'd wear something a little more casual."

"Do you like casual clothes?" Kirika asked cautiously.

Oriko nodded. "Of course I do! I think you'd be a lot more comfortable in them, and we could go to some other places without drawing so much attention."

Homura stood. "Mikuni Oriko, Kure Kirika," she said. Instantly, both of them snapped their attention to her, as if they'd only just remembered she was there.

"Ah, my apologies," said Oriko quickly. She took Kirika gently by the arm, turning her to face Homura. "Kirika, this is the girl I was talking about from my visions."

They both looked towards her inquiringly.

"Akemi Homura," Homura introduced herself curtly.

"Hey, you have the same uniform as me," said Kirika. "You go to Mitakihara Middle School?"

Homura only nodded.

Kirika peered at her curiously. "Weird. I've never seen you before. How do you know so much about Oriko and me?"

"We've met, although you may not remember it," said Homura, her face impassive.

"I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that," said Kirika boldly. "I have a good memory, you know! Unless it doesn't involve Oriko. Then I couldn't care less about it. What year are you?"

Oriko bit her lip, glaring at Homura. "Kirika…"

Instantly Kirika recoiled as if she'd been hit and clung to Oriko's arm. "Oriko, I'm not interested in her at all, I swear! I was just curious since we go to the same school."

Oriko patted Kirika's head, becoming calm again. "No, that's okay, Kirika. I'm not mad. I just get jealous really easily. Although I'm curious too," she added, addressing Homura. "Just how do you know us?"

"What does it matter?" said Kirika, tugging Oriko's arm. "She's not important! I don't want data of her, really. And if she turns out to be a threat, I promise I'll protect you."

Oriko smiled. "Thank you, Kirika. But I don't think Akemi-san is here to harm us. This is our city after all, so she'd be biting off a bit more than she can chew."

Homura watched the pair through narrowed eyes. Their strange devotion for each other and complete dismissiveness of social standards was a little uncomfortable to watch, to say the least. Oddly enough, however, it wasn't much different from the way they behaved in battle. She'd fought them enough to know that.

"If you can spare the time, I'd like to ask a few questions," Homura said, raising her voice slightly so they would definitely hear. Her patience was slipping, and she was beginning to wonder if this had really been a worthwhile trip. These two brought back too many bad memories and it was all she could do to maintain her composure.

Oriko's eyes flickered back towards her and she studied Homura carefully.

"Go ahead," she said at last.

"Kyubey–" said Homura, her gaze switching carefully between the two, "–has it been around lately?" She lowered her voice as well, although none of the passing people seemed to be picking up on their conversation.

Oriko shot a quick side glance at Kirika before shaking her head. "I haven't seen him in quite a while, come to think of it."

"What about in your visions?" Homura burst out.

Oriko gave Homura a curious look, but didn't comment. She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. "He has not appeared in any of my visions either. Since you seem to know about that, you should know that it means he's going to be gone for quite a while. Perhaps he may not even return. All I can see in the furthest future I can reach is an unending blackness, though, so I can't be sure. I don't even know what's caused it or if it means my death." She opened her eyes and put on her most polite smile, despite her grim words. "I hope it's just my future sight acting up."

"How did you do that?" asked Homura despite herself. "You shouldn't be able to see the future while like that."

Oriko shrugged. "I've seen this vision so many times that I don't need to transform to picture it in my mind. I won't bore you with unimportant details, but in answer to your question, I have not seen Kyubey in around a week now, I'd say."

A chill ran through Homura. So it was the same for them. And he wasn't appearing in Oriko's visions of the future either.

"Who needs that talking cat anyways?" said Kirika. "He always barged in at all the wrong times! I'm happier now that he's gone and I can have Oriko all to myself."

"Now, now, Kirika, you should take this more seriously," said Oriko. "With Kyubey gone, the demons will be on the rise and that means more fighting." She turned her attention briefly back to Homura, who had been looking away from the pair. "I'd suggest you return to your city immediately if you want to avoid trouble here, Akemi-san. Other girls mind more than we do when strangers approach them with questions. You'll be needed there anyways. Demons aren't getting any easier to fight."

"I know that," said Homura. She took a moment to breathe out. Calm. "Aren't you worried about their numbers becoming overwhelming?"

"I'm worried about a lot of things now that Kyubey's gone," said Oriko, shrugging. "But I'm trying to think positively about this, since there's nothing else I can do. That's frustrating, but my visions don't lie. Kyubey won't be around for a while."

"You sound more certain about that now than you did a moment ago," Homura pointed out somewhat disdainfully. "Are you sure you're not just trying to reassure yourself?"

"Why would I try to do that?" said Oriko. "I'm not interested in my visions unless they threaten Kirika's or my existence. It's not like demons are something I don't know how to handle. I'll give it some more thought when it's worth it." She grinned slyly at Homura. "Are you worried about me?"

Kirika bared her teeth at the black-haired girl, her eyes glinting dangerously – almost jealously. "I'd be careful how I answer that, if I were you."

Homura scowled, ignoring Kirika's threat. "Not at all. You just don't seem very concerned, that's all."

"Oriko is being sensible!" Kirika snapped. "I can take down any number of demons, and more with Oriko by my side! There's nothing we have to worry about because we're strong. Only weaklings are scared of demons."

"Kirika, that's enough," said Oriko, reaching out to hold the shorter girl's arm. "Let's try to keep things civil between ourselves and Akemi-san."

Homura snorted quietly. Why had she even bothered with these two? Of course they wouldn't care about the Incubator's disappearance. They were only concerned about each other, and would only act if their world was directly threatened. Meaning they were more likely to be her enemies than her allies, no matter what situation they were in.

"Forgive me for intruding," she said, the words feeling strange to her. She never thought she'd apologize to Mikuni Oriko of all people for anything, much less for being in her territory. After all, she'd not only come to Mitakihara several times, but had acted hostilely and killed several innocents so she could prevent what she saw as she end of her world. She only fought for one thing, never stopping until she could achieve her goal and protect what was most precious to her.

Homura didn't want to think about the implications of irony there.

Oriko waved a hand. "Since I'm the one who found you, I'll say it's fine. But you really should go now, if your questions have been answered."

"Sounds good to me," said Kirika. "She's getting pretty boring, isn't she? No wonder I don't remember her from my school."

"Kirika," Oriko warned.

"I've heard all I needed to hear, so I'll be leaving now," Homura said abruptly, if only so she wouldn't have to hear the two murmuring back and forth anymore. Her comment was pointed in more ways than one.

"Good," said Oriko. "If you leave right now, you shouldn't have any problems getting back to your city. It was nice meeting you, Akemi-san." She flashed one more of her charming smiles before taking Kirika's hand and leading the shorter black-haired girl off into the crowd.

Homura stood still, watching the two disappear back into the crowd. They were an odd pair indeed. Under any other circumstances, she would have found Mikuni Oriko to be an amiable person, but seeing her now just disturbed her deeply. In many ways that girl hadn't changed. The only thing that was different was that she was no longer fighting to protect her world from Kriemhild Gretchen.

But there was her prophecy to think about. Seeing blackness in the future was never a good thing. If it didn't mean death, what did it mean?

It was, without a doubt, connected to Kyubey's disappearance.

* * *

Homura returned much later that evening, having taken several detours to avoid other magical girls from Kasamino. After speaking with Oriko, she didn't feel like any more interaction was necessary. The only thing she learned from exiting the city was that none of the other girls she came across looked like they were expecting Kyubey to appear as usual, but she didn't ask them any questions. She had already confirmed what she needed to know, and thought of several theories that might serve as explanation. Although when it came to the Incubator, she should probably expect the exact opposite of her expectations. There was one theory, however, that was nagging at the back of her mind, rising above the others. But just thinking of the effects of such a scenario sent chills through her.

She'd found several demons lurking around the hospital and had spent some time driving them away. She wasn't really sure whether the reason was sentimentality or compassion. Probably the former, however much she would have liked to deny it.

Mami was waiting by her apartment as was expected, and as she stepped from the shadows, she pulled a disgruntled Kyoko with her.

Homura sighed and ran a hand across her brow. She was still transformed, since she could use the cover of night to avoid civilians, and she knew what they must be thinking.

"Homura-chan–" Mami began.

"I got some confirmation about Kyubey," Homura said before she could continue. She knew she wouldn't be able to escape this confrontation, but she was so, so tired. At least offering that cryptic piece of information might derail Mami from her intended direction.

"You went to talk to other magical girls, didn't you? Even though we all agreed otherwise," said Mami, holding her gaze evenly. "Why?"

"I don't believe the Incubator's absence is temporary," said Homura. "I'm acting now before we're forced to understand that a different way."

Kyoko threw her hands up, glowering murderously. "Dear God, you're even more stupid than I thought."

"I'm being practical," Homura replied. She could feel herself slipping slowly back into that hard shell that protected her from the outside world – that didn't allow her to feel sadness or regret or compassion. It was how she coped with situations that would have broken a normal person.

Of course, it was probably exactly what had ended up breaking her, but she didn't allow herself to dwell too deeply on that.

"Don't screw with me," said Kyoko angrily. "Mami-san's dragged me to _hell_ and back today, looking for you. When did you decide it's okay to just finalize decisions on your own? I don't know about you, Mami-san, but I'm sick of it. I've about had it with this attitude makeover and talking down to us like that. I thought you were crazy before, but you just love to prove me wrong, don't you?"

"Whoever the person you knew before was, it wasn't me," Homura retorted. Sometimes she just couldn't stop herself from rising up to meet Kyoko head-on, for all her cold attitude. That hotheadedness was something the redhead had inadvertently brought out in her whenever they spoke. "I'm not going to lay down and let you make decisions you'll regret," she added, a layer of frost seeping into her voice again. "I'll act before that happens."

Kyoko snorted. "Oh, now don't go pretending you did this for us."

Mami put a hand on Kyoko's shoulder to calm her down before turning to Homura. "Whatever you were thinking, I was under the impression that we made the choice not to act together. If you had talked to me, I would have heard you out."

"No," said Homura. She stared hard at Mami. "You believe the Incubator will come back."

Mami sighed. "I won't deny that. Kyubey's always been around. That's always been something I've known, even if his actions are a little bit mystifying for me. Wherever he is, there'll be a reason. And if recruiting magical girls is his purpose, then he wouldn't just leave. I have to believe that."

"And what if I were to tell you that it had no choice?" said Homura, finally bringing up the subject. It was a wild theory – one that shouldn't make sense or shouldn't even be possible – and yet, she could think of nothing else. Oriko's prophecy only seemed to make the possibility greater, although she didn't want to specifically mention the fortune teller just then.

"Do you mean… Kyubey was forced to leave?" asked Mami, her tone sounding a little incredulous.

"What the hell?" said Kyoko, her irritated expression becoming even darker. "Do you seriously expect us to believe something like that? No one controls that thing."

"I don't expect you to believe it," Homura replied coolly. "Even I don't fully believe it myself. It's just a guess."

"Really?" said Kyoko skeptically. "Normally you sound so self-assured. It's weird to think you'd be guessing about anything. Don't you know everything?"

Homura met Kyoko's gaze. Her eyes were hard. "No," she said simply.

Kyoko snorted, but was interrupted by Mami.

"Please explain," the blonde said, casting Kyoko a quick, warning glance.

Homura closed her eyes and began talking slowly. "I knew someone who made a wish that changed the world. Her karmic destiny was so great that she was able to bend the rules of the universe itself." She was reciting what she knew again, like she had learned to do long ago, but something was different about this one, like all the times she referred to Madoka. Her voice softened and her heart beat a little faster. She was in no danger of losing herself at the moment, but it still brought back memories of the pinkette and the same sort of reaction she'd had whenever she'd seen her and talked with her. Something she could never control. "She created a miracle and even though her wish was simple, it changed her forever."

Mami listened to Homura intently. She never really understood where this side of her came from, but it confused her. It was something like the person she'd known before, but almost wistful. Aged even.

"This is my theory," Homura continued, opening her eyes. She decided to say it simply, despite her long build-up. She had been getting off-topic, distracted by memories of the other world. "Someone who bears a significant amount of karmic destiny has made a wish, and as a result, the Incubator has disappeared."

Silence.

Homura knew right away that neither Mami nor Kyoko believed her. It was such a simple theory – such a harmless assumption. But the implications were dark and the sheer enormity of it was a bit unbelievable. Where would someone even gain that much karmic significance, for one, and also who would have made such a thoughtless wish?

At last, Kyoko broke the silence with a laugh that sounded like a forced cough. "That's… That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Who would do something like that? That's just unheard of."

"I must admit, wishing for Kyubey to disappear is a sensible wish, at first thought," said Mami, biting her lip. "I don't doubt many girls would think about it if they knew only half of the truth. But it's far-fetched, all the same. No one would have enough potential to make a sort of wish that has that much effect."

"I would think so too," said Homura. She was so tired that she changed back into her regular clothes without thinking as she spoke. "But a girl's potential is measured in strange ways. I've begun to think that it may be more than karmic destiny."

"Well, whatever," said Kyoko, although she was pursing her lips. "That's still a pretty wild theory. It's been a week. If you ask me, it's still a bit early to go jumping to conclusions. It's not like I've had interaction with Kyubey everyday of my life – until I met you two, that is. He'll be back."

Homura sighed resignedly. At this point, all she wanted to do was to get out of this and sleep. "You're probably right."

"Yeah, I'm hoping I am," said Kyoko.

"Me too," said Mami. "In any case, I'll think about what you said, Homura-chan. Even though Kyoko-chan might be right, we have to think of all the possibilities. Kyubey's absence is making our lives harder, after all. But next time, please talk to all of us first before something like this. It's dangerous going into other territories."

"No kidding," said Kyoko. "I'm surprised you made it back in one piece."

"I spoke to girls who were willing to talk," said Homura passively. It wasn't completely truthful, but it wasn't a lie either.

"Even so," said Mami. She sighed heavily. "Well, we'll meet again tomorrow, after school. For now, we should get to bed and try to sleep. Kyoko-chan," she added, taking the redhead's arm. "You're coming with me."

"Why?" Kyoko complained. "I can find some place to sleep, no problem. Your place is way too fancy for my liking. I'm always afraid I'm gonna break something just by looking at it."

"It's not a problem," the blonde said. "I like having you where I can keep my eye on you."

"Oh, don't you go acting all patronizing too," said Kyoko, but she reluctantly let herself be led off by Mami.

"Good night, Homura-chan," Mami said over her shoulder.

Homura watched the two disappear into the night before turning to unlock her door.

Should she believe her own theory, or just shrug it off like Kyoko and Mami? That would be easy to do, and it would banish all her thoughts that were slowly bending towards bad things – things she didn't really want to think about. But what if it was true? If what she'd said really had happened, that meant Kyubey was not only gone, but it was incapable of returning. If someone had really wished for it to disappear… It seemed like such a simple wish, but it was probably one of the largest things anyone could ask for, and the amount of people it would affect was huge.

She could only hope that it was wrong and that, just like Mami had said, no one would have enough potential to even attempt something like that. Kyubey would suddenly show up again one day, somehow.

* * *

Morning classes the next day were long and uneventful, but the material was more or less new. Homura was used to being the top student in class – scoring perfect on all her tests, writing out formulas easily even though no one else had memorized them, being able to answer questions quickly and informatively – but now of course, like everything else in this world, it was different and she couldn't predict what would come. She was still a good student, even if she wasn't maintaining perfect grades anymore. And she still exceeded her peers in athletics, although she had refused all offers made to join any of the school's sports teams, much to the disappointment of her P.E. instructor.

Homura met Mami on the roof during lunchtime. It was easier to associate herself primarily with the blonde, and she'd never made efforts to befriend her classmates anyways. None of them seemed worth the effort, and they would never understand the kind of life she led. That was always how it would be, and even a few changed circumstances in this world wouldn't alter that. Luckily, she'd never been close with any of them anyways, which allowed her to avoid awkwardness between anyone. There was only one girl who occasionally greeted her in the hallways and asked how she was doing, but even then, she seemed to be slowly backing off herself.

"Hello, Homura-chan," said Mami, as Homura took a seat beside her. She was still eating her lunch. "How was your morning?"

"It was okay," said Homura absently. "How was yours?"

"Alright, I suppose," answered Mami. "School doesn't concern me as much as it used to, although that is to be expected." A frown was tugging at her lips as she spoke.

Homura looked around briefly. "Sakura-san's not coming today?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well this morning," Mami said. "Although I suspect she just doesn't want to come here. She doesn't like school at all, even though she's not enrolled." A brief pause and then, "It must have to do with her past."

The vague explanation was enough to satisfy the black-haired girl, who just nodded slightly. Sometimes Mami just tried to explain things that way – in a sort of hasty add-on fashion. She was still coming to terms with Homura's sudden change after Sayaka's death, and the fact that she had somehow become disconnected from the person she had been before and the life she had led. It was all rather unsettling for her. But Homura was still keeping silent about the reasons. Mostly because there was no way she could explain things in simple terms.

"Homura-chan," Mami said suddenly.

Homura had been focusing on the tiles making up the roof, but her head swivelled around to meet Mami's as she spoke. "What?"

"Are you happy?" Mami asked. "With how things are, with your life, with your grades, even?"

"I'm a magical girl," said Homura, disguising her surprise by hardening her expression. "I don't have time to think about that."

"That's not an answer," said Mami. Her voice was light and gentle, but Homura could tell she was serious. "We always have time to think about our own happiness. It's something that we'll think about, even if we don't want to. That's just the way we are. Even being a magical girl doesn't change that."

Homura fumbled for an answer. Mami's question had caught her off-guard, and it seemed completely unrelated to recent events. Was the blonde trying to force her to reveal something?

Her mind was still racing with possible responses when the ground suddenly shook violently beneath them, throwing them both to the side.

Homura gripped the bench for support and righted herself as the vibrations slowly ceased. She could hear faint shouting, coming from her right.

Mami had also recovered and was staring at her with wide eyes, her chopsticks still clutched in her hand somehow. "What was that?"

"I-I don't know," said Homura, her heart still racing from the sudden burst of adrenaline she'd gotten. "An earthquake?"

"That seems likely," said Mami. She got to her feet, placed her lunch kit on the bench, and walked to the fence on the side of the roof, looking down onto the school's campus.

Homura joined her in the next minute. Below them, she could hear a faint babbling, although she couldn't tell what it was about from where she stood. The tremor hadn't lasted long enough to send people into a frenzy.

"That was odd," said Mami at last, her normally pleasant voice sounding unsure. "But earthquakes here aren't uncommon, I suppose."

Homura didn't say anything. Earthquakes weren't uncommon, that was true, and it may have spared her having to answer Mami's difficult question. Still, there had been something off about it, and she was sure Mami had sensed it too, from the way the blonde was fidgeting and how the crease between her eyebrows was continuing to deepen, even if she wasn't saying anything.

Miasma.

* * *

Kyoko was waiting for them as they took their regular route away from the school down a scenic wooded path. Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her short shorts and there was a thin line of sweat on her forehead as if she had just been working out… or playing at the arcade.

"You guys felt it, right?" she said as they walked up to her, wasting no time.

"The earthquake?" said Mami. "Yes, we did."

"Like hell that was a regular earthquake," said Kyoko. "I wasn't talking about that anyways. The levels of miasma went through the roof when it happened, and this is coming from someone who's sorta gotten used to feeling miasma constantly."

Mami hesitated, fiddling with one of her pigtails. "I felt the miasma," she said at last. "But I'm hoping it was just a coincidence."

Kyoko stared at the blonde, her eyes narrowing. "Come on, Mami-san, doesn't being a magical girl teach you anything? There are no coincidences. Even with the numbers of demons reaching critical mass, I've never felt miasma like that."

"She's right," Homura spoke quietly. "About the miasma, at least."

"I think we should do a patrol then," said Mami. "I'm not sure how widespread that earthquake was, but we should check our area for increased demon activity."

"I'm with you on that one," said Kyoko. "It ain't a good sign when the miasma spikes like this during the day. Not to mention the earthquake. Bastards won't let us catch a break."

* * *

The trio stopped at Mami's house briefly so that Mami and Homura weren't carrying their bags around the city, then took to the rooftops. For some reason, humans could never see them while they were transformed, unless they had potential or magic was used to allow them to see. The human world was always forced to be separate from the magical world, to some extent. That was probably a good thing. There was no such thing as demon kisses and direct demon attacks would never hit innocents. The only danger demons posed to humans was through their drainage of emotions.

The more Homura was exposed to this world, the more she began to spot those little differences. Some things that were slightly altered from one world to another, usually for the better.

Homura trailed a little ways behind Mami and Kyoko, listening to them discuss how to best find traces of the demons' presence. It wasn't hard to track down demons, even during the day, but that sudden increase of miasma must have had a source.

"Hey, Homura," said Kyoko over her shoulder. "Do you think you could use your wings and get a bird's-eye view of the city?"

Mami also looked back at Homura. "That sounds like a good idea. Would that be okay, Homura-chan?"

Homura looked up at Mami. There was raw concern in her gaze – enough to make her flinch. Still, she nodded. "Yes."

She summoned her wings without further exchange and leapt from the building, taking to the air. The city dropped beneath her, but she counted on her magic to keep her airborne. From the sky, the city was truly beautiful. Nothing had changed from the version she had known in other worlds. Everything was still there exactly as it should be, from the long bridges teeming with traffic to the modern, glass buildings that towered above bustling sidewalks and scattered parks.

Homura narrowed her eyes against the breeze as she scoured the city. Demons were very noticeable, even from her height – tall figures who moved very slowly and did not seem to affect the humans until it was too late. She looked for anything unusual, like large clumps of demons out in the open that might offer an explanation for the earlier incident. But there was nothing.

Suddenly, a large grating noise rumbled out from beneath her, and her blood ran cold as her senses were suddenly overloaded by dread. There was no doubt about where that feeling came from.

Miasma, of course. But where was it coming from? She looked, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary that signalled a large gathering of demons.

Still feeling chilled, even though the shaking below had once again died down, Homura swooped downwards to search for Mami and Kyoko. They hadn't gone far from where she'd left them and as she landed in front of them, she could see they looked disconcerted.

"What the hell?" Kyoko was saying. "I nearly fell off! And there was no way that was a coincidence."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with you," Mami said, shuddering. She looked up and noticed Homura walking towards them. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes," said Homura. "Are you alright?"

"We're both fine," said Mami. "That was a bit more forceful than last time, though. And that miasma… I couldn't even pinpoint where it came from."

"Neither could I," Homura admitted. "But I felt it."

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary?" Mami asked.

Homura only shook her head, making the blonde look even more unsettled.

"This is pretty bad, don'tcha think?" said Kyoko. "I mean, if it's coming from our city, then yeah, that's bad in itself, but since Wings-san here couldn't even see anything weird from up there, then it might be beyond our territory. I can't think of anything other than demons that would make miasma – I mean, that would be one hell of a twist at this point. So if it's some spawn from another city making miasma and these earthquakes, we should be pretty worried right now."

Mami closed her eyes, breathing out slowly. "I don't want to think about that."

"But it's a possibility, right?" said Kyoko. "It's not like you have a better explanation."

Mami grimaced, then opened her eyes and glanced at the redhead. "Kyoko-chan…"

"I'm just saying," said Kyoko, shrugging. "That earthquake basically proved that the miasma is linked to it somehow, so now we gotta start thinking a bit more critically. I really hate to say this, but Homura, could you give us a rundown of your theory again?"

Homura frowned. "About Kyubey?"

Kyoko nodded a bit impatiently. "Yeah, that one."

"There wasn't much to it, really," said Homura. "The Incubator made a contract with someone who wished for him to go away."

"Seems kinda counterproductive to me, letting a girl make a wish like that," said Kyoko. "But whatever. It's the only thing we have to go off of right now."

"Didn't you say yourself that we shouldn't jump to conclusions?" said Homura somewhat pointedly.

Kyoko shrugged. "It can't be helped, can it? I said that before all this earthquake and miasma stuff started happening, so don't talk."

"As much as I'd love to say that we should shrug this off," said Mami, speaking up, "I have to agree with you both now. We should start learning what we can about why Kyubey's gone missing and how it's connected to this."

"Hey, I hate this myself," said Kyoko. "Anyways, Homura, is there any way we can prove your theory's actually true?"

Homura's eyes narrowed in thought, but only for a few seconds. "I've already done everything I can to test it. Kyubey has disappeared from Kasamino as well."

"So based on just that, you think the same's true everywhere else?" Kyoko said.

"Once you get to know it, the Incubator is quite consistent," was Homura's vague reply. "And having demons run rampant would be against its policies."

"Huh. Didn't know it had those," said Kyoko.

"Well, I'm not sure what we should do here," said Mami. "It seems like it would be a waste of time going to other cities, but we have no other way to get information. What do you two think?"

Kyoko put her hand on her hip. "Well, if the Kyubey-was-wished-away theory is true, then there's nothing we can do, right? Might as well lie down and wait for the demons to come – not like there's anything we can do in the long-run." She smirked at Mami's expression. "Okay, I didn't mean that. We're magical girls; we're gonna keep fighting even if it's stupid."

"We still don't know for sure that it's true…" said Mami, biting her lip. "We should keep hoping and gathering clues, and not think about the worst that can happen."

"But this _is_ the worst that can happen, isn't it?" said Kyoko flatly. "If Kyubey doesn't show up pretty soon, this place is gonna get overrun by demons and they're gonna cause a total wreck of things. And since humans can't get their shit together, they're eventually gonna kill themselves off without even realizing." Even despite the stricken look on Mami's face, Kyoko rattled on, her words becoming progressively darker. "Well, at least when humans are gone, the demons won't be as many, right? It'll just be us. Might not be that bad. Bunch of teenage girls ruling the world? It's gotta be someone's dream, somewhere out there. Once the carnage is out of the way, it'll almost be like a free country."

She was interrupted by Homura before she could continue.

"Sakura Kyoko," Homura said sharply. "That's enough."

Mami took a deep breath, her fists clenched.

"What?" said Kyoko, her head swinging in the black-haired girl's direction. There was something strange about her eyes. The pupils were too dilated. "Someone's gotta be the face of realism here, right? You're the one who came up with the stupid theory."

"You're taking it too far," said Homura, glancing at Mami. "Now is not the time to lose ourselves."

Kyoko snorted. "You know I can't take that seriously coming from you, right?"

"Well, I never expected you to be the realist," Homura retorted. She felt herself clenching her fists, but it wasn't in anger or frustration. In fact, she felt more numb than anything.

"What the hell?" said Kyoko. She was baring her teeth, her two odd fangs prominent as she tilted her head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean? You know, you've been pissing me off the most lately – even more than this whole crazy Kyubey thing. Just what the hell is your problem? Are you trying to be difficult or what?"

"There is no need for you to understand me, Sakura Kyoko," Homura said, her jaw clenching slightly.

"Okay. You know what? Whatever," said Kyoko. "God knows we've got bigger things to worry about right now."

Homura's eyes narrowed as she once again slipped into her cold exterior, fitting it over top herself like a glove. It was a sort of safety net – allowing her a place to escape when nothing was easy to handle. Kyoko was just playing tough, but so was she, in a way.

Mami finally got ahold of herself and put a hand on Kyoko's arm. "Stop it, both of you," she said. "The miasma levels are still high. I think they're affecting us." She turned, beckoning for her two companions to follow her, and leapt from the rooftop into a side alley.

"God, it really bugs me when you make excuses for us like that," Kyoko called after her, but she relented. After a last sideways glare at Homura, she followed Mami from the roof.

When Homura joined them on the ground, they had both banished their outfits, so she did the same. She said nothing and didn't look at Kyoko.

"Come on," said Mami eventually, turning and walking towards the main street. "Let's move out of here."

* * *

They ended up going to Mami's flat, since Homura had to get her schoolbag anyways. Then Mami invited them to stay for tea and cake (even though Homura never finished hers and Kyoko just ended up eating most of what was in Mami's cupboard).

Mami allowed the silence to continue until Kyoko had finished devouring three slices of cake before speaking up. "Alright, I know this last week has been difficult, but we can't afford to argue amongst ourselves. Especially not now."

"I'd put in effort if she did, y'know," said Kyoko, crossing her arms and glaring at Homura.

"That isn't going to help, Kyoko-chan," said Mami. She raised her cup of tea to her lips. "I'm going to agree with Homura-chan here. We have to keep ourselves together."

Kyoko scowled. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say. So do you have any idea of what we should do?"

"I don't think we should give up," said Mami, taking a quick, delicate sip. "It's much too early for that. Let's talk about the earthquakes. When they happened, others could feel it, of course. But I'm curious about something else too."

"Whether or not anyone could feel the miasma?" Homura asked, tilting her head.

Mami nodded. "Yes." Her brow creased as she frowned. "I've… had experience with humans becoming able to feel miasma. But even then, it was at low levels, compared to today. I would be interested to know if anyone did feel it."

"I'm not sure what that would prove," Kyoko snorted.

"It may give us some insight, that's all," said Mami. "Like you said, if the miasma levels are getting this high with no apparent cause, we should be getting worried, shouldn't we?"

"I suppose," Kyoko said. Disregarding the reactions of the other two at the table, she lay down and stretched out on her back, placing her arms behind her head. "Honestly, this sucks. I guess I just can't say that enough." She paused, and Mami and Homura waited, as if they expected her to continue. "Look, Mami-san, you were sorta right about earlier. I shouldn't have said half of the things I did. I just kind of lost it for a few minutes."

"That's alright, Kyoko-chan," said Mami. "We just have to remember that we aren't immune to the effects of the miasma, even as magical girls."

Mami glanced quickly at Homura, inviting her to say something, but she looked away and said nothing. Her eyes settled briefly on the empty spot next to her – just large enough to fit another person – and her frown deepened.

"Well, anyways," said Kyoko, coughing awkwardly. "I guess it can't hurt to ask around. Maybe you two could at school or something."

"Yes," said Mami. "That seems like the best place to start. If we can unravel the mystery about the miasma and the earthquakes, we might get some answers about Kyubey too." She shrugged at Kyoko's skeptical look. "It's worth a try."

"I'll admit, that would be pretty convenient," said Kyoko. "I'm not expecting much, but I guess I'm sorta the pessimist in this situation." She sighed loudly, her eyes flickering in Homura's direction for a brief moment. Then she sat up again abruptly. "I'm gonna go. Is that alright with you?"

"Right now? Where are you going?" Mami asked surprisedly.

Kyoko shrugged. "I'll be around, I guess. Hitting up my favourite places and stuff. I'll get in touch if the earthquakes start up again."

"Alright," said Mami, although she looked faintly concerned. "Just be back before it gets dark."

Kyoko pulled a face, but didn't object. She got to her feet and stuck her hands into her pockets, only pulling one out briefly to wave before she disappeared out the door.

Once her footsteps outside receded, Homura also got up. "I should go as well. I don't want to be any trouble."

"Don't worry about it. Please wait a second," said Mami and stood to talk to Homura face-to-face. "Let's forget about what happened today with the earthquakes for a minute. Are you okay?"

"Yes," said Homura, a little too quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?" She crossed to the entrance hallway, retrieving her bag.

Mami didn't reply to the almost rhetorical question, but instead changed the subject. "I get the impression that Kyoko-chan feels uncomfortable around you."

"That's not hard to believe," said Homura, keeping her tone neutral. "Aren't you the same, Tomoe-san?"

"I'm worried about you," said Mami in way of reply. "But the only way Kyoko knows how to handle this is by lashing out." She chewed her lip, looking uncomfortable. "I think you could afford to pay her more mind, that's all. She's never gotten on well with people, and now you're actually becoming a little like her."

"I'm sorry," said Homura, meeting the blonde's gaze directly, "but I'm not who you think I am."

"Is that so?" said Mami. Her voice remained pleasant, but there was almost an uncharacteristic edge to it. "Whoever you are now, you still have traces of who you were before. That's what I'm appealing to."

Homura shook her head, wanting to get away from that gentle voice, away from those golden eyes, away from it all. Mami was not her mentor anymore. That time had come and gone, and now she was just an empty person, looking for a way to fill herself up. The last person she should be latching onto was Homura – who was equally as empty.

"Good night, Tomoe Mami," Homura said softly. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the flat, feeling deeply disturbed by it all.

* * *

The bell signalling the end of classes rang out and the students of the second-year class practically jumped out of their chairs to stretch and meet their friends.

Homura stood slowly and reached for her bag, glancing towards the back of the classroom. Of all the people she could approach to ask about the miasma, there was one in particular who may have been able to sense it more keenly than the others, as a result of recent circumstances. After all, demons preyed on negative emotions.

"Excuse me." A voice from nearby spoke up, and Homura's only sign of surprise was a slight jerk of her hand as she picked up her schoolbag. "May I have a word, Akemi-san?"

She turned to see the very person she'd been meaning to speak with, smiling at her lightly.

Shizuki Hitomi was alone that day, although she was usually surrounded by at least two other girls when they crossed paths in the hallways. There was a polite smile on her face as she looked expectantly at Homura.

Hitomi was, in a way, the last link to the old world. She was the only person left in the class who was still suffering from the effects of Sayaka's 'disappearance' two weeks earlier, and she had been one of Madoka's close friends. Of course, of the three – her, Sayaka, and Madoka – Homura had always had the least interaction with Hitomi. Her potential was never great enough for her to be at risk of being tempted by Kyubey, and if she ever did try to get involved, Homura had developed… strategies on how to deal with her. Hitomi was a rich girl and polite by nature. Compared to someone like Sayaka, she was easy to head off, as long as Homura caught the signs early on.

Still, Homura studied the green-haired girl carefully. Perhaps if the Incubator had waited long enough in this world, he might have been able to make something out of her…

That was the least of her concerns now, though.

"Yes?" Homura said lightly. Hitomi often greeted her in the hallway, so it wasn't unusual for them to be seen talking. "What is it, Shizuki-san?"

Hitomi shifted awkwardly, adjusting her grip on her school bag. "Hm… Akemi-san… would you mind if I went ahead and asked you something a little personal?"

Homura had a suspicion of what she might say, but she shook her head anyways, bracing herself.

"You were… friends with Sayaka-chan, weren't you?" said Hitomi.

Yes. Homura knew it.

Hitomi didn't wait for a reply, but continued hurriedly. "I'm not trying to make any assumptions – I mean, I saw you two together a few times after school, and it looks like you were enjoying yourselves."

Homura blinked. Her and… Sayaka? Enjoying themselves? She decided to make a mental note of it and ask Mami about it later.

"Sayaka-chan was a very precious friend of mine," said Hitomi, closing her eyes briefly. "I know I've had a really hard time trying to move past this, especially since no one knows what happened to her. But… if you ever wanted to talk to someone who understands– If it's too hard to go through alone…" The green-haired girl faltered, looking nervously at Homura.

Homura looked down, biting her lip. She could– She probably should…

But it was too hard. Hitomi was always ignorant – so blissfully ignorant. She always managed to unintentionally ruin things with Sayaka one way or another without ever suffering herself. She was suffering now – that much was clear – but Homura couldn't bring herself to feel pity. Not because Hitomi had brought pain into Sayaka's life, but because she reminded her too much of Madoka.

(There had been one irregular timeline that Homura had only labeled as anomalous because Hitomi had suddenly and unexpectedly confessed to Madoka, of all people. Homura had just managed to sort out her own jumbled feelings when Hitomi was killed following Madoka and Sayaka into a witch's labyrinth and Madoka made a contract to revive her. Ruined. Everything was ruined.)

Hitomi reminded her of the life Madoka used to lead before being dragged into a world of magic. So of course by default, all ties Homura might have had with her had been disconnected long ago. And she didn't have time to rely on Hitomi, especially now when everything in her life that Hitomi didn't understand was so uncertain.

But Homura didn't know how to decline without sounding rude, so she only nodded very slightly. "Perhaps. I'm sorry for your loss, Shizuki-san." She decided to switch topics quickly to the earthquake, knowing that Mami and Kyoko were probably waiting for her somewhere.

Homura waited for Hitomi to nod awkwardly before continuing. "Did you feel those earthquakes yesterday?" she said, meaning to make it sound conversational, although it came out a little flatter than she would have liked.

Hitomi looked slightly taken aback by the sudden change of topic, peering at Homura curiously. "Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "They were rather sudden. Everyone was so frantic about it."

"Was there anything unusual about it, do you think?" Homura asked, her voice giving nothing away about ulterior motives that time, thankfully.

"Well…" Hitomi hesitated. "Did you feel anything strange, Akemi-san?"

Homura decided to take a chance.

"I felt cold," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "And I had this strange sense of dread, although I can't properly describe it. None of it seemed to have anything to do with the earthquake, which was the unusual part."

There. She had said it. Now she could only hope that Hitomi had felt the miasma as well, or she would have to come up with an explanation. And it would also do nothing to help solve the mystery she was facing. She hoped Mami had gotten some good information from her third-year class or they would be at a standstill for the time being. She certainly didn't want to hear what Kyoko would say about that.

Fortunately, Hitomi's reaction was the desired one.

"Really? You too?" she said, something in her voice sounding relieved. "I was sure I felt something a little off about yesterday's earthquakes, although nobody else seemed to feel it as strongly. And it was exactly as you said. Cold." She shivered. "And that dread."

"You're the only one who sensed it?" Homura asked, just to double-check. That was worrisome. Perhaps Hitomi had more potential than she had previously thought.

"Yes, I–" Hitomi was abruptly cut off by a rumbling beneath their feet, and she jumped away from the spot where she'd been standing instinctively.

Homura tensed, but there was no shaking and no sense of miasma.

"What on earth was that?" said Hitomi, looking at Homura with wide eyes. "More earthquakes?"

Homura didn't reply. Outside the classroom, she could hear the mutters of the other students as they asked similar questions to each other.

Then she felt it.

This time, when the sense of dread struck her, it was much more potent than any of the previous day's spikes. Everything else seemed to diminish in size and importance; all she could feel was that choking, bad feeling that gripped her entire body, squeezing the air out of her lungs. It was something one might feel if there were perhaps hundreds of demons in close range. It was dizzying, nauseating.

Her past dropped away from her, and she forgot everything around her, even the conversation she'd just had with Hitomi. A nothingness came in to fill the gap, numbing her mind, and making way for the darkness that hovered at the fringes of her perception.

 _Forget the world,_ a voice whispered in her head. _Forget this place._

For a moment, Homura felt inclined to listen to it.

But she was a magical girl. Her body was geared towards being able to fight and handle a flood of miasma at the same time. If she let it overcome her, who knew what would happen. If there were actually demons nearby…

Homura gritted her teeth and tried to focus in on reality again, shutting out all of the dark thoughts swarming her mind. The blurry room became semi-clear again, and she looked around her incredulously. She couldn't see any haze or fogginess in the room at all, which she would have definitely expected with miasma levels this high. Everything seemed completely normal, but for the chilled feeling that was racking her body. And the screams.

Hitomi was cowering in front of her, having dropped all of her things. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she was shivering terribly, moaning now and then. It was clear that she had lost sight of everything and surrendered to the deep despair demons instilled in their victims. In any other situation, Homura would think of moving her and any of the other civilians around, but it wouldn't work then. Not with an entire school full of potential victims. She had to get out herself first and try to find out what was causing this. If she didn't move quickly, the miasma would take ahold of her again.

Perhaps this time, it would be short-term, like the previous day's incidents.

Somehow, she doubted it.

The dread was slowly descending on her again as she tried to resist, clouding her mind with dark, but tempting thoughts of just laying down and letting it take her away… It would be so easy. Easier than fighting for a world where nothing was worth protecting…

"Homura-chan!"

The familiar voice dragged her briefly back from the clutches of her miasma-controlled mind, and she looked up to see Mami standing in the doorway, transformed in her magical girl outfit. In the next moment, the golden-clad girl was beside her, holding her arm to steady her.

Mami took one glance at Hitomi, then looked Homura directly in the eye. "Somehow I knew you'd be here," she said. "I came as fast as I could." Her voice was slow and soothing, but somehow commanding at the same time. "I know it's hard, but try to transform. I promise it'll help."

She was talking to her very carefully, trying to keep her from tipping – for more than one reason. But the dark was somehow more lulling than Mami's soft voice. That feeling of resignation. It would be so easy…

Mami was still talking to her, telling her to transform. Her voice became a little more firm, and the darkness receded slightly.

Homura shakily reached up, habitually flicking her long hair from her face before holding up her left hand with the silver ring. She had to stop and think for a moment, forgetting how the transformation worked. Forgetting how to even enlarge her Soul Gem.

"That's it," said Mami comfortingly in her ear. "You know how. It'll come back to you."

The blonde continued reassuring her in such a manner until Homura finally lined up her thoughts in a cohesive order.

Closing her eyes, she released her magic and transformed in a flash of purple light. Suddenly her head felt clearer and she could think straight again.

"Thank you," she said to Mami, although she felt a little awkward about not being able to handle the situation herself.

Mami shrugged it off. "We're still not completely safe," she said seriously. "We should move out of here. As long as there are no demons, I don't think there's a serious threat to the students or teachers."

Homura wanted to ask how she was sure there were no demons, or if she was sure, but Mami was already walking out of the classroom. Homura had no choice but to follow, only taking one quick glance backwards at Hitomi's slumped form.

The hallway was lined with students who had not yet left the school. They all looked like they caught in the same trance, eyes unfocused, and moans and mumbles escaping from their lips. It was eerie, and more than a little unsettling. Homura had seen her fair share of horrors when it had come to witches, but somehow, watching people slowly have their emotions drained from them was even more discomforting. Especially when there was nothing she could do – no source she could target.

They were only halfway down the hallway when two things happened at once. The shaking began, much more rigorous than the previous day. There was nothing to grab hold of, but just as Homura began to lose her balance, several strands of golden ribbon wrapped around her, holding her steady. At first, Homura tensed – something about the feeling of being tied up in Mami's ribbons brought back bad memories – but relaxed once she realized what Mami was doing. As the ground started shuddering, the students around them seemed to snap out of their stupor, registering what was happening instantly by the looks of fear and slight confusion on their faces.

The rumbling had grown to a dull roaring as the ground swayed beneath their feet. Homura's mind buzzed with possibilities, but none of them seemed valid and none of them seemed important. She was slipping into survivor mode, thinking of the quickest ways to leave the building.

They heard shouting from behind them and students began to run past, some of them tripping as they tried to keep their balance. None of them noticed or cared about Homura and Mami – they couldn't even see them anyways, although they parted around the spot where they were standing. Homura saw a flash of green as Hitomi sprinted past them, screaming along with the other students. The regular earthquake procedures had all but been forgotten.

"Homura-chan!" Mami was shouting over the grating sound of the earthquake. "I need you to do something!"

The ribbons holding her upright, Homura glanced back at Mami. What could Mami possibly want now?

"We have to get out!" Mami said. "Please, Homura-chan!" She was struggling to keep fear out of her voice, but Homura could still hear it, and it didn't help the churning feeling in her own gut.

Homura's only reply was a brief nod as she swallowed back her apprehension, and she closed her eyes.

* * *

They met with Kyoko just outside the school. She was already transformed and was somehow managing to keep herself from falling over. She looked vexed.

"The hell is this?" she shouted as Mami and Homura stumbled towards her. "The world hates us, I just know it!"

"Think of somewhere we can go!" Mami gasped.

"There aren't many places to go!" Kyoko snapped. "The whole city's coming down, so a wide open area like this is basically where we should be! And did you feel that miasma? Where are the demons coming from – under the ground?"

Her voice was almost drowned out by the sound of rumbling and crashing as a flag pole from behind them was displaced, and fell to the ground. The earth was heaving wildly and mercilessly, not even weakening for a moment's reprieve. Every step put Homura in danger of being flung over.

"I bet Kyubey is punishing the world for making him leave," Kyoko said.

"Now isn't the time for this," said Homura, speaking up finally. "Both of you, hold onto me."

"What–" Kyoko began, as she tentatively reached for Homura's arm.

In an instant, the raven-haired girl summoned her white wings and took off. Kyoko bit back a scream of surprise as the ground dropped away from her.

Mami reacted quickly, forming ribbons to help secure herself and Kyoko to the black-haired girl's arms. "Good thinking, Homura-chan," she called out.

"I can't keep this up for long," Homura called back. "Start thinking of something we can do."

"Right," said Mami, narrowing her eyes in thought.

"I'm trying to look for demons!" Kyoko hollered, scanning the city below them. "There ain't any, as far as I can see. At least not something that would cause miasma levels like this." Then she squinted, peering off into the distance. "What the hell is that?"

"What?" Homura grunted. Keeping herself, Mami, and Kyoko airborne was not easy.

"Look!" Kyoko said, pointing as best as she could. "There, in the distance."

Homura looked at where she indicated, and her eyes widened as Mami asked, "What is that?"

"My question exactly!" the redhead growled.

In the far distance, there was what looked to be a huge cloud of blackness, almost resembling the colour of a tornado, but far from being one. It was swirling and widening, blotting out the blueness of the sky. Now and then, as she squinted, it looked like there were new bursts of debris being thrown into the air, and below, the rumbling grew even louder.

Homura dropped her gaze to focus on sustaining her magic, as Mami and Kyoko both continued to stare.

"How far away is it?" Mami shouted.

"I can't tell!" Kyoko replied. "I'm guessing it's pretty far, though. Or hoping, rather."

"It almost looks like something is bursting out of the ground," said Mami, her eyes flashing gold as she tried to use her magic to see further.

"Oh God," said Kyoko. "Now I'm sure I want to be as far away as possible. Whatever can cause all these earthquakes as well as the miasma is not something I want to be in range of."

"I agree," said Mami. "But I'm not sure if Homura-chan can manage much more flying."

Homura had been trying to focus all her magic on keeping them aloft. She could still last for some time, but maneuvering anywhere would be difficult with Mami and Kyoko holding onto her.

However, she also couldn't afford to give up.

"I'll be fine," she said to the two. "Tell me the moment the shaking stops."

Several minutes passed, during which Mami and Kyoko discussed what they were seeing, although they never mentioned what it could be or where it had come from.

As Homura hovered, she became aware of a dark presence, slowly looming in front of her. A shadow fell over her, and the day seemed colder. Thick, swirling dust pricked her eyes, and the rumbling turned into a loud roaring sound. Even in her current state, she could feel the miasma, twisting out to greet her, and she shivered. There was no way she could tell what was going on, since she was giving most of her focus to her magic, but whatever it was, it was very bad.

Just as Homura felt exhaustion setting in, Mami shouted, "I think the shaking has stopped. In the city, I mean."

Homura listened intently. Besides the howling of the wind and the roaring of whatever monstrosity lay before them, she couldn't hear the rumbling of the earthquake. Was it really over?

She felt herself dropping instinctively, out of pure relief. Even though her large, white wings were appendages made from magic, they felt sore.

They landed a few blocks away from Mami's apartment, and Mami and Kyoko both stood shakily, giving Homura space to recover.

A couple Grief Cubes clattered to the ground in front of Homura as she was bent over, breathing heavily. She looked up at Mami in surprise.

"I had some saved, just in case," the blonde said simply. "Use them quickly and let's move somewhere… safe." She said the word hesitantly as if she wasn't sure if it was even appropriate to use.

Kyoko snorted.

* * *

Mami gingerly picked up a lamp from the rest of her belongings strewn about the floor, setting it upright again. She looked around at her books, broken dishes, vases, and other pieces of furniture and sighed resignedly before taking a seat at the glass table with Kyoko and Homura. It had surprisingly survived most of the earthquake, with only a few cracks visible on the otherwise smooth and untarnished surface.

"So then," she said at last. She hadn't even bothered searching her refrigerator for refreshments, perhaps afraid of what she might find there. "Does anyone have anything to say?" Her voice sounded thin, like she was just managing to keep it under control.

"Well, shit," said Kyoko, her back resting on a fallen cupboard behind her. "This is one hell of a mess." At the look she received from Mami, she continued quickly. "In more ways than one, mind you."

The silence stretched out. Homura didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think. Her mind was blank, as if taking shelter behind the emptiness she usually felt.

"Okay," Kyoko spoke up, her voice irritated. "What do you want us to say, Mami-san? You saw it for yourself, didn't you? Some…thing just came out of the ground and caused all of this, and who knows what the hell is going to happen next? Do you want me to try and explain it or something?"

"Well, yes," said Mami, her voice only just managing to keep level. "I do want some answers, actually." She closed her eyes. "I know that none of us have the power to give them, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to hear an explanation. From Kyubey – the Incubator, whatever his name is – even though he's not even here. From anyone. For once in my life, I'd like to know."

Homura stared at Mami cautiously. How far was the blonde going to go with that?

"We don't know for sure–" Homura began, and broke off briefly as Mami turned to look at her. Something about the blonde's gaze was disconcerting.

"–what really happened," she finished a moment later, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

"I guess." It was Kyoko who replied. "But we do know that they've somehow caused all of this to happen. And there's no one we can ask about it, can we, now that Kyubey's disappeared. I have a pretty good feeling all of this links back to him in the end too. I mean, if he got wished away or whatever, then maybe he really is trying to punish us."

"Kyubey is incapable of thinking something like that," said Homura coolly. "Besides, if someone really did wish for it to disappear, then it can no longer affect us. That's the power of such a wish."

"It seems so impossible," said Kyoko. "But now, it feels like it's the only option we have left. But what we can do about it… Well, that's way beyond me."

At that, Mami buried her face in her arms.

"We shouldn't give up," said Homura, in that strange way of hers. Almost like she was reciting from a textbook. "As long as this world exists and we have the power to protect it, we shouldn't give up."

"You can say that because you believe in a god or whatever," said Kyoko, rolling her eyes angrily.

Homura blinked, but didn't reply. She hadn't told Mami or Kyoko much about who Madoka was. In the first couple days, when all she could do was murmur the pinkette's name over and over as if she remind herself that she wasn't dreaming or dead, they had thought she'd been converted to some sort of cult. She'd let them believe it – they would have an even harder time accepting the truth, after all.

Kyoko continued. "Me? I have no idea what to believe at this point. If Kyubey's really gone then, for all we know, that earthquake might have been a hundred thousand demons appearing in one spot. That'd suck for us, but it would explain all this. And if there's nobody to collect all the cubes we keep harvesting, then they're just gonna keep spawning more demons, right? And the humans will keep making new demons for us to fight so we can get more Grief Cubes. It'll be hilarious as hell for the demons, I'd think, but it's one hell of a mess for us. If we don't get wiped out by demons first, we're gonna fall into despair just as quickly."

That made Homura flinch, but she set her jaw in a hard line anyways. "Then we'll fight until then." Because the only alternative was giving up, and she couldn't accept that. Not yet.

(She remembered the last time she'd allow despair to take hold of her, only this time, there would be no one to save her.)

Oh, Madoka. Had she known? Could she have known?

Kyoko heaved a loud sigh, throwing her hands up. "I'm all for fighting. Believe it or not, I'm actually not someone who just rolls over and dies." She shrugged at the look she got from Homura. "But fighting while accepting that we're just gonna lose in the end no matter what – well, that's the tricky part. Not to mention, what's gonna happen to the world when it's overrun by demons."

Mami, who had been silent by then, let out an almost inaudible moan.

"We're backed into a corner," Kyoko continued. "But that makes us dangerous. Right, Mami-san?"

The blonde looked up at her briefly. Her eyes looked almost dead, lacking the warm light they usually held. "If there's nothing we can do, what's the point of it?" she said. Her voice was flat. "Why should we even fight?"

"Because we're magical girls," said Kyoko. The wry smile that accompanied her words, however, sent a chill through Homura. "C'mon, Mami-san, where's your whole 'love and justice' routine gone?"

"Sakura Kyoko," said Homura warningly. The whole conversation had taken a faintly derisive turn to her – almost satirical. They were talking about hope and protecting the world, but really, what was the point? She felt something churning inside of her, and shoved it back down. She found herself wanting to snatch back the words she'd just said. They sounded empty even to her own ears.

At this point, however, she had no choice but continue.

To Mami, she said, "Demons have always existed in this world, and always will, no matter what. Even with the Incubator gone, that doesn't change. We have always been doomed to fight until we fall in battle or to despair, so why should this be any different at all?" She wasn't even sure what she felt anymore – all she knew was that there were words coming out of her mouth and she couldn't stop them. "It's a cycle – it always has been."

She could feel her thoughts turning towards the shadows with those words, away from the lit corners of her conscience that still clung to hope – to Madoka. It would be so easy to let her mind slip in that moment, and allow the darkness to carry her away, but she continued to resist. At least for the time being. It wouldn't be good for Kyoko to watch both her and Mami deteriorate into nothing at the same time.

"No, it's okay. I'm okay," Mami said at last, lifting her head. Her voice sounded forced, almost cheerful. It was a complete switch from how she had been a moment ago, although a sort of deadness lingered in her eyes. "You're right, Homura-chan – of course you're right. Let's fight together. Let's laugh at this world together. At least if it's the three of us, it won't take us so easily."

Her words sent pinpricks of unease through Homura. "Tomoe-san…" she began. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"Why wouldn't I mean that?" said Mami, turning to face her directly. "I can handle any number of demons if it's us three. If the world's crumbling down around us, at least we can say we're strong enough to take it. If it's the last thing we have, I won't feel any regrets. As long as we all feel the same way, there isn't a problem."

Homura bit her lip. Even Kyoko looked unsettled.

They didn't have time to say anything else.

A loud boom rocked the house, and all sound dropped out of existence to be replaced by a shrill ringing in Homura's ears.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Kyoko's shrieking voice could faintly be heard from beside her. "What now?"

The boom was still resounding throughout the house, causing the ground to tremble dangerously, although it was clear that the source was not an earthquake, but more like… a distant explosion. In fact, that was exactly what it felt like.

At last, the shaking stopped, and the three girls instantly got to their feet.

"That sounded far away," said Mami. Her voice had gone back to sounding more or less calm and mostly in control like usual. She walked over to the window, twirling the ring on her finger as she peered out. Evening was creeping up fast, illuminating the blonde in a deep orange light, although a broken shade that hung in front of the window cast her head in shadow.

"There's no way you can see anything like that," said Kyoko, going to join her. "Your window doesn't exactly give the most scenic view. We need to go out."

Mami glanced quickly at the redhead before nodding. "Yes. Let's go."

Homura waited a few moments before following the two out of the apartment. The boom had only temporarily distracted them from crumbling. She was going to have to keep a closer eye on Mami. If she completely lost herself, she would be dangerous.

Deep inside, Homura wondered if either Mami or Kyoko were thinking the same thing about her.

As for Kyoko… She could handle the redhead's brave face. It was probably better than hiding.

Moments later, Homura joined the magically-clad Mami and Kyoko on the roof of Mami's apartment, transforming herself as she did so. Kyoko was holding her spear, although Homura couldn't detect any demons nearby. The redhead's grip was very tight – so much so her knuckles were turning white – so perhaps she just needed something to squeeze.

"Look." Mami was pointing into the far distance.

Homura followed her finger, her eyes widening slightly. A huge cloud of dust or smoke – she couldn't tell exactly what – was blotting out the sky. Even as her mind registered the sight as being similar to a mushroom cloud, another earthquake struck, accompanied by the deafening boom… and chaos.

For some reason, Oriko's prophecy sprang into Homura's mind at that moment, and the raven-haired girl wondered if it really was the end.

Car alarms were blaring from the streets as vehicles knocked into each other, and faint cries could be heard from surrounding buildings, as well as a distant din as people crowded into the streets to escape their homes.

"Mami-san," came Kyoko's voice very suddenly, sounding tense – even fearful.

"What is it, Kyoko-chan?" said Mami, her gaze still fixated on the cloud of smoke.

Kyoko was turned in the other direction, her mouth opening slightly as she stared. "I think we should move."

No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than a loud siren wailed out from an unseen speaker system. Homura knew what it was, having heard it many times before. It was an alarm that alerted citizens to some danger – be it from a flood or storm – and was usually meant as a message for evacuation.

"Seriously, this _and_ an earthquake?" Kyoko was saying as Homura spun to see what she was talking about.

Mami's apartment didn't offer the best view of the city, but she could still see plumes of smoke rising from seemingly nowhere and was that…?

Yes.

It was water.

The earlier earthquake must have caused it. Even as she squinted, Homura could see that the water level was rising rapidly and progressing inland, already nearing the neat row of apartments of which Mami's was a part of. The warning had come too late. Cars and debris from the earlier earthquake were being swept towards them, and faint screams could be heard as people tried to escape the waves. It was happening so fast, that all the action seemed to have started instantaneously, and Homura just registered how chaotic the city was.

"We need to get out of here. Now," said Mami, grabbing Homura's and Kyoko's wrists. "Homura-chan, can you fly us to high ground somewhere?"

She'd only just said it as the world began shaking once again, accompanied by the loud blasting noise from somewhere in the distance. And that feeling of dread. Of course, always that feeling of dread. It seeped into all her senses, gripping her limbs, paralyzing her. Even despite being transformed, she couldn't shake it off. This time, her mind was filled not of dark, evil desires, but with nothingness. Mami sounded impossibly far away, and her words were indecipherable. Homura felt numb.

She didn't realize she'd fallen until she hit the water.

It rushed into her mouth and nose, replacing the miasma instantly with adrenaline. Her feet hit something solid, and she pushed off of it, hoping it was guide her towards the surface. Her eyes opened and her magic instinctively activated, allowing her to see a few feet ahead of her in the murky water. Still, no matter which way she looked, she couldn't tell where the surface was.

Just as her lungs began to give out, the water exploded with a flare of golden light and she felt herself being dragged backwards and up.

"–got you. I've got you," Mami's voice said as Homura's head broke the surface.

Homura was momentarily disoriented as she focused on coughing out water, so she let Mami pull her along with her ribbons until she bumped into a hard surface. Mami's fingers wrapped gently around her wrist and hauled her out of the water onto the roof of a floating car.

"Thanks," Homura gasped hoarsely, pushing her sopping hair away from her face. Her fingers trailed over Madoka's ribbon, and she felt a dizzying wave of relief at it still being there. (The other one was probably lost now, although she wouldn't let herself think about that for the time being.) She turned to look at Mami and saw the blonde kneeling behind her, also looking relieved (for a different reason). She also realized it was the second time Mami had saved her that day. She was piling up a debt that would be difficult to repay.

"Next time you go diving into the water, give us a head's up first, will you?" said Kyoko from nearby. Her voice sounded somewhat strained.

"Shh, Kyoko-chan," said Mami, and Homura saw her turn towards the red magical girl. "Let's fix you up before you pester anyone."

Homura looked towards Kyoko to see the redhead was huddled on the partially submerged hood of the car, holding her leg. Blood was seeping through her fingers, although her clenched jaw was the only thing that gave away how serious the wound was.

"Kyoko-chan won't admit it, but she was the first one who jumped in after you," said Mami. Her Soul Gem shone in her hair as she summoned her healing magic.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Kyoko irritably. "Lot of good that did me."

"Hold still," said Mami firmly.

Homura waited, drawing her legs up to her chest and shivering, at more than the chill breeze. The city was in ruins, and the water was clouded with dirt and debris. Pieces of buildings and furniture drifted past her as the water continued its steady journey inland. Somehow, though, her mind was still in a stalemate, refusing to register anything fully. She wouldn't let herself feel or think. All she did was watch.

After a few minutes, the car rocked as Mami helped Kyoko onto the roof and out of the water. Kyoko sat some distance away while Mami crawled over to Homura, careful not to overturn the car. Together, the three looked onto their city as the car drifted up the street along with the rest of the wreckage. Sirens wailed, people screamed, buildings shuddered and creaked as water poured through them.

When Homura spoke, her voice was distant. "This is really happening."

"Yes," said Mami right away. Her voice contained barely controlled grief, although Homura merely blinked. "It is."

For once, Kyoko made no comment.

* * *

The next few hours passed by in a blur of following the flow of desperate people escaping up to the evacuation centre on a high hill overlooking Mitakihara. Several residents of the neighbouring city, Kasamino, had also come to take refuge there and the place was crowded with frightened people of all ages and status. Some people were yelling, some people were crying. But most were locked in a stupefied silence. The tension in the atmosphere was unmistakeable.

Homura, Mami, and Kyoko accepted three bedrolls and sat huddled in a corner, saying nothing to each other or anyone around them. Nothing was really making sense anymore, one way or another.

They waited.

At some point, Mami got up and went to the bathroom. A couple stood outside the doors and as she came out, she heard them talking about how several cities in China and Korea had been reportedly obliterated. Even though, at first, the information was difficult to comprehend, Mami paused to listen, her eyes tracking around the room in search of the televisions she'd seen earlier, but hadn't bothered to pay attention to. After all, how could anyone be broadcasting at a time like this?

But surely enough, her eyes fell on one of the screens in the far corner of the room and as she squinted, she could see a man sitting at a table as calm as can be. When she walked closer to peer up at the screen, she saw the sideways scrolling words at the bottom which talked about supposed nuclear explosions in various countries around the world.

At least that would explain the loud booming sounds earlier. But it didn't comfort her in the slightest to have a report like that. If anything, it made things worse.

She returned to Kyoko and Homura and sat down to wait.

* * *

News came on the second day that Mitakihara was completely flooded and uninhabitable, with water levels continuing to rise. At that point, official-looking people had started going around asking for names and residences so they could compile a list of the refugees (and also figure out who was missing). Mami and her companions discerned from the information on the news that large-scale earthquakes had devastated most of North America and Europe. Brief aerial footage was shown, although it was shaky and unfocused.

The shelter was mostly quiet, with only a few people whispering quietly. A majority of people waited in silence for something to happen – some news that said everything was going to be okay.

* * *

On the third day, the television screens went black and did not turn back on. The lights began flickering sometime around noon and then shut off as well, leaving everyone in a partial darkness. Outside, dust and smoke filled the air, and now and then, distant eruptions rocked the shelter. The room was so crowded with Mitakihara refugees as well as people from other cities that it was hard to move around. Several volunteers brought around meagre portions of food and extra blankets for the elderly and the children.

Everyone waited.

* * *

On the fifth day, Homura, Kyoko, and Mami encountered a magical girl from Kasamino, wearing a dark green kimono. Although she also sensed their presence, she kept her distance and said nothing to them. They also had nothing to say. After all, they barely had a territory to guard anymore.

Later that day, the announcement for further evacuation inland came. The water levels in Mitakihara had shown no sign of going down, and with no electricity and food shortages, it would be difficult to maintain a healthy living standard there.

People put on their brave faces at these words, but whimpering from frightened children and even from some adults began to fill up the silence. They were leaving behind everything they had ever known, after all, and who knew when they would return?

* * *

"I think we should go with them," said Mami the next day, when everyone was supposed to be leaving.

Kyoko sat as lazily as she could in the corner, one leg propped up to support her arm as she leaned forward. "And then what, Mami-san?" she said wearily. "We keep running with these people? What about ourselves? We haven't cleaned our Soul Gems in about a week now, and I'm starting to feel it."

"Then what should we do?" Mami demanded.

"I think we should go with her," said Kyoko, nodding towards the green-clad girl in the middle of the room who was currently packing her few belongings without looking up. "She's like us, right? And she's gotta hunt somewhere."

"There is no need to rely on her," said Homura, almost automatically. Her eyes were fixed blankly on some point in the distance. She had barely moved in the past few days, even to eat or sleep. "It'll be easy to find demons, wherever we go."

"Yeah, well obviously," said Kyoko, scowling. "The problem is finding the right amount of demons, so we don't get completely overpowered by some huge pack. There aren't many places for us to hunt now, you know. We gotta be careful."

Mami tilted her head. "And how would teaming up with someone help us?"

"Well, she's another magical girl," said Kyoko. She duly avoided Mami's gaze. "She might have some experience, and we could find manageable amounts of demons way easier if we had some help."

"I never expected you to be the one who suggests teamwork," said Mami, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm on my last legs here," said Kyoko. "It's about survival now, not what I personally want. Hell, teaming up with you two was more about survival than anything. But that just ain't gonna work anymore, now that everything's been screwed up."

"I see," said Mami. She glanced over at the other magical girl who was standing up with her pack. "Well, I agree; our options are limited. I'm all for cooperating with her, but I think we should stay around other people for now, if only for protection."

"Protection?" Kyoko said, rolling her eyes. "If anything, we'll be the ones protecting them. They have no idea about what's causing any of this, and if they get ambushed by some horde of demons, we'll be the ones rushing in to save the day."

"We don't owe these people anything," Homura added, still staring into space. "We need to start thinking about the effects on ourselves now."

"How do you mean?" asked Mami.

"Whether or not this is the Incubator's fault doesn't matter anymore," said Homura flatly. "But a world without it is going to create serious problems for us. We need to start examining the possibility that whatever caused all this destruction is connected to our side somehow." Her right hand twitched, although what it meant neither Kyoko nor Mami knew. "If that's so, then whatever we try to do, demons will continue to multiply and we'll be forced to fight a continuous war to protect ourselves and the humans. And they will always be in danger from the demons. Instead of fighting that inevitability, we should move forward and try to survive in our own way."

"I like that resolve." Kyoko pursed her lips. "Just for survival, eh?"

Homura shook her head and, for once a sort of light came into her eyes and her voice sounded like there was some power behind it. "No. We fight to keep hope alive for the humans. Because she wanted it to be that way."

Kyoko glanced at Mami quickly, but the blonde didn't react. She sighed. "I suppose that's all well and good then. So what's the verdict? Do we go with her or not?"

"We can't stay here," said Homura simply. "The demons will be drawn to our magic, and our freedom will be restricted wherever we're going." She didn't mention the fact that humans created demons in the first place, although she supposed Mami and Kyoko already knew that. Demons always spawned some distance away from their creators anyways. "In keeping with Mami's ideal, it will be safer for the humans if we leave. They don't understand us, and we can't explain anything to them. Who we go with doesn't matter." She shrugged. "I'll leave that up to you."

"Well then," said Kyoko. "What do you think now, Mami-san?"

Mami sighed heavily. "I suppose Homura-chan's made it clear that there's only one option. I would hate to think that we'd cause this place to become a feeding ground for demons." She looked around, a faint glimmer of sadness in her golden eyes. "That means there's no other choice but to move on." She stood, drawing a hand over her brow. Then she turned and began making her way towards the other magical girl. "Let's salvage what can be salvaged," she said briefly over her shoulder.

"…Which is not much," Kyoko added in an almost inaudible murmur before she stood, brushed the dust off her clothes and followed Mami.

Homura stayed where she was, frowning.

* * *

Within the hour, introductions had been made and a brief alliance had been formed. It had happened much faster and more easily than predicted, and the girl (who had introduced herself as Yuuko) seemed willing to help them hunt as her own Soul Gem was starting to darken. She told them of regions in Kasamino that weren't flooded, but were teeming with magical girls escaping from surrounding, ruined towns. Still, they decided to head to these areas anyways. Even if there were lots of magical girls there, chances of real competition were low with the rising number of demons.

As everyone was filing out of the gym and crowding the hallways, the four magical girls snuck away to the now vacated kitchen area and transformed. There was a sense of finality as they walked out of the building, unnoticed by everyone around them. Some of their classmates were mixed into the crowd – some of them standing with their families and others alone. Homura's heart gave an involuntary lurch when she spotted Kaname Junko attempting to soothe a fussing Tatsuya. But none of that concerned her anymore. They were leaving all of this behind, possibly forever. She fixed her eyes forward and concentrated on following Yuuko.

But when they finally emerged from the shelter area and onto the wide cliffs overlooking Mitakihara, Homura was the only one who looked back.

* * *

The outlying district of Kasamino was surprisingly intact, with only a few collapsed buildings and plumes of rising smoke here and there. However, evacuation had been ordered as a precaution, so it was mostly empty, save for the stubbornest citizens who refused to budge. Homura found herself hoping they wouldn't run into any other magical girls – particularly a black and white pair – as they trekked through the city streets, trying to pick up signals of demons with their Soul Gems. Kyoko was now leading the way along with Yuuko, arguing now and then with the green magical girl about where they should look next.

As they walked, Homura spotted several people, taking shelter in the shadows of large buildings, dressed in rags. She assumed they were homeless citizens, although she had no idea why they'd remained. They looked pitiful, and added to the forlorn feeling that hung over the city.

It wasn't long before they sensed the presence of demons, and Yuuko and Kyoko led the way into battle. There were about thirty demons in total, which was almost a blessing. The battle was brief, and there were more than enough Grief Cubes for them all to share and cleanse their Soul Gems. Afterwards, Yuuko gave them all one short bow and then walked off without saying a word. Homura assumed the alliance had ended.

Finding a place to stay wasn't difficult, since most houses had been abandoned. Still, it felt odd to walk right into someone else's apartment. Kyoko was the least bothered by it, and sauntered up to the first couch she saw, slumping into it and letting out her breath loudly while Mami left to search the kitchen. She returned after a few minutes with a plate of cookies and set it on the coffee table, although no one touched it. Silence had descended on the trio, although they were all thinking of the same thing and they knew it. About what would happen next. They couldn't stay here forever. Nothing was truly certain. If Homura thought about her unknown future hard enough, she feared she might start hyperventilating, so she contented herself with just staring at the plate Mami had brought back.

Someone else's plate in someone else's city.

* * *

Days passed, and explosions began ravaging areas in the east again, their tremors faintly reaching Japan. The thin coating of dust that had settled on everything after the initial earthquakes and explosions had thickened and was now a constant presence permeating the air. The sky was growing dark as the dust rose into the atmosphere, becoming a sort of greyish cloud. As an explosion nearer to Japan occurred, the impact of the shock waves broke the windows of several buildings in the Kasamino area and, according to some reports gained by magical girls fleeing from the west, had flattened cities on Japan's western coast. This forced the few remaining people in the city to relocate, or it injured them. The number of wounded people, either wandering the streets or laying in buildings increased sharply, and the city was overrun with rats and other scavengers who had descended to pick at the carnage.

Fortunately, water levels had begun to subside, allowing coastal Kasamino to become a hunting ground. Within days of the first announcement of receding water levels by word of mouth, the area was flocking with magical girls, seeking to take advantage of the low levels of demons. News also came about Mitakihara, which was still mostly submerged, as it was on a lower altitude than Kasamino and had had a large river running through its centre.

Homura learned many other things besides as she went scouting or hunting alone, and brought the information back to Mami and Kyoko, who did the same in turn. At first, they had arranged to scout in shifts, mostly to survey damage done to the city and gain new information from other magical girls. In the first few days after they had moved into the main part of Kasamino, there had been at least twenty other magical girls thinking the same thing they were. Now, about a week later, the number was still fluctuating, but most were moving on to other larger and less destroyed cities down south. Humans were an even rarer sight, although most appeared only in a pile of rags.

As time went on, Homura began coming across girls trying to solo a battle against an obviously overwhelming number of demons. The first time she'd come to help, she'd arrived just in time to save the girl from expending herself, having spent a few minutes beforehand in consideration. But the more she joined in others' battles, the longer she stayed away from the awkward company of Mami and Kyoko, who were both struggling to cope with the new state of the world in their own way. Seeing them was still a painful reminder of past things – past failures and spent aspirations.

The first time they had caught her doing a little more than surveying was when another magical girl she'd helped had turned on her after the battle. They had ended up picking up the magical energy from nearby and had intervened. Still, Homura had gone out by herself to fight – sometimes sneaking out when they slept. Mami didn't approve and Kyoko was angered, but Homura found it easier to stay away from them, and found the need for solitude to be even greater in this desecrated world. She hid herself away by distancing herself, although she always returned to them at the same time in the evening everyday.

When she wasn't hunting by herself or living in tension with her companions, she was scouring the city with them for supplies such as blankets, clothes, and food. Their lives had become a slow rhythm of doing everything they could to survive, without even thinking about it. It was a cruel world – for every item of clothing or food they took, someone else would go hungry, and fights between magical girls over Grief Cubes were common – but they did what they could for themselves.

And the whole time, Homura wondered how the world had gone so wrong such a short time, and how suddenly, _she_ , of all people, was considered an angel. She heard the rumours and the whispers when she flew into battle against the demons alongside others, but they only made her derisive. How would they react if she told them this was all her fault – that she had inadvertently killed countless other universes, thus forcing the birth of this slowly dying one as well? Would they laugh at her, or perhaps shrug it off as the rantings of a mad person? There were already plenty of those, after all; at least a small part of every person had gone a little insane over the past few weeks. Apart from that, she began to wonder what would happen if she suddenly burst out that there was some pink-haired goddess watching over them. That would probably attract much more attention.

But Madoka was not a goddess. She was a magical girl, and her wish had been for the sake of other magical girls everywhere. Perhaps this was the weight of such a wish. Peaceful rest for magical girls in exchange for the wellbeing of the world? But Madoka wouldn't know that; of course she wouldn't know that. She had made a perfect, selfless wish, and none of this was her fault. After all, it was Homura who had moulded the circumstances to force her to make that wish in the first place. And now she was paying for it by helping where she could and keeping Mami and Kyoko alive.

This new world was her retribution, and there were only two ways it would end: if Kyubey magically reappeared or when the whole planet was covered permanently in dust.


	4. Compromise

Melanie's footsteps were muted on the jagged, rent-up sidewalk, but she still took care to keep her tread light. She balanced her egg-shaped Soul Gem in the palm of her hand, watching it pulse every now and then. She was used to seeing it radiating light constantly due to the demons, but now she was searching for another magical girl. She was lucky in that she'd been a magical girl long enough to be able to not only detect traces of demon presence, but also of other magical girls. It was a skill that required focus and practice, but most magical girls could at least sense another magical presence within a few yards.

Unfortunately for her, searching for Anita was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Literally. There was too much interference for her to be sure that her Soul Gem was picking up Anita's presence or someone else's… not to mention a demon. After her last battle, she didn't exactly feel like running into another pack. But tracking presences with her Soul Gem took some magic, so she would have to hunt later anyways if she didn't find Anita first.

As she walked, trying to pay attention to her Soul Gem and the uneven pathway at the same time, she felt a twinge of frustration. Had Anita really given up on her that fast? Should she just give up on trying to find her? The orange magical girl had seemed to be interested in Melanie – she had said so herself – so wouldn't she have at least made herself easy to find in case Melanie changed her mind? To Melanie, it seemed like she had just bolted.

Melanie wasn't typically a fickle person; there was no place for indecisiveness in a world where quick decisions were necessary in order to survive each day. But Anita was different, somehow. With any other encounter she'd had with other magical girls, the choice she'd had to make about joining them or not was simple. She didn't want companions to rely on; she didn't want to risk becoming too clingy to someone. There was no one in her world but her, and that was one thing of which she had always been sure – more so after the apocalypse had struck. But then Anita had pranced in with her strange openness and an ability that terrified Melanie, and somehow that had shot a hole right through her formerly sound logic. She still wasn't sure exactly why that was, but she did know that for some reason, Anita was the first person who had sprung the question in her mind: how long could she keep on just living? She'd always tried to avoid it before at all costs, lest it put a permanent stain on her thoughts and continue to eat away at her until she became nothing more than a mindless shell. She'd seen the effects of the despair caused by pondering that question too much on other girls – girls who had let their situation sink in too deep – and had vowed that she'd never let herself become like that. She'd rather fight until she was killed by demons than lose her mind, since to her, that was the worst fate imaginable. But, in a way, she already was a little lost. She had no plans for the future – she had no future, period – and just kept up a routine each day to give herself something to do, so at least she had something to focus on that wasn't personal. Her thoughts were mere commentary, dripping with ridicule for the world around her, like a third party. And most importantly, she was a silent person, inside and out. When her thoughts became too loud for her, she pushed them into the back of her mind and replaced them with an audio on repeat.

But with only a few words, Anita had changed that and brought the question back into Melanie's mind. Not only that, but Anita had seemed genuinely interested in _her_ , not her ability. Melanie hated to even consider it as a possibility, but did she possibly _want_ companionship now, of all times?

…Or perhaps all of this was a result of thinking too much, and she was overanalyzing everything. Which was, of course, why she tried to avoid it altogether (although she was beginning to doubt how well it had worked out for her so far).

She realized she was gripping her Soul Gem so tightly that she was beginning to feel a tautness in her limbs, and she relaxed very slowly. She was currently going in circles with her train of thought, and maybe she was starting to go in circles literally as well. That would definitely not help her find Anita.

She decided to settle with a simple solution to put her thoughts temporarily at ease: she was finding Anita to settle a few questions, and because the girl was in her debt.

Simplifying things like that always worked, she found.

Slapping the last of her thoughts in place, Melanie began focusing on searching for Anita again. Her Soul Gem was beginning to glow brightly with light, although she had enough experience to know that it was a signal for demons, not magical girls. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and determined that they were roaming around somewhere to her left, so she veered right at the next intersection she came across. She wasn't sure where she was, but it must have been a suburban area. Through the dense dust and haze, she could faintly see the remains of strip malls and gas stations, and none of the buildings appeared very large. It didn't really matter where she was, though, since the only thing that mattered was the demon to magical girl ratio per area. She didn't even know what town or city she was in. The last thing she'd heard was just south of Seattle, which was a long way away from her home in Michigan.

Just keep moving. That was the idea.

As she moved through the streets, she began to see less shops and more houses and felt a little more hopeful. Maybe Anita lived there, in what used to be neat and tidy neighbourhoods. She'd said she was "rich", so Melanie kept an eye out for the larger, more extravagant homes. She felt self-conscious as she walked. It was a nice area, and her family had not been very rich. She was used to moving around a lot, from apartment to apartment as her father searched for employment.

She shook her head more vigorously than was necessary, and held her Soul Gem a little higher in front of her face to distract herself. Anita had inadvertently brought back cloudy, unpleasant memories.

Melanie wandered further and, to her surprise, the dust began clearing. Dust was a constant thing; no one could claim to live somewhere where there wasn't any. But some places were affected less. She lifted her head and when she peered into the distance, she could even see a bit of brightness. The hazy cloud that constantly surrounded her became more of a mist, and the red-tinge of the world became less intense. It was a refreshing change, but it was almost jarring for her. She took a breath, and could actually feel the air apart from the dust.

"Hey, you!"

The voice came from her right and she froze in place. It did not belong to Anita.

A second later, a girl appeared in front of her. She was dressed in a beige magical girl outfit, and her Soul Gem was in the shape of a star and encrusted on her neck. She peered at Melanie suspiciously. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," Melanie replied honestly, although she did not offer any more information about herself.

"You don't know how the rules work," the girl said haughtily, putting her hands on her hips. "This is someone else's territory. No intruders allowed."

Melanie stared at her, frowning. She thought the whole 'territory' system had vanished long ago. Most magical girls just went where they pleased, and there wasn't much point in holding down an area when the changing population of demons forced girls to move around often. She wondered if this girl was another person who was just clinging desperately to the way things were before.

Melanie surprised herself with her next words. "I'm friends with a girl called Anita," she said quietly, then felt horror rise up inside her. _Friends?_ Barely acquaintances, more like. What if the girl knew Anita as well? What if she took Melanie to wherever Anita was and repeated that? That would be awkward, and would probably encourage Anita to keep prodding at Melanie's defensive walls. That was the last thing she wanted, so she certainly didn't want Anita to see them as friends.

 _Calm down,_ Melanie told herself firmly. It wasn't worth worrying about now that she had already said it. She could only let whatever happened happen.

The girl pursed her lips as she thought. Just as Melanie thought she was going to get really hostile and demand that she leave her territory, she spoke. "Anita? You mean the orange rogue? I didn't think she had any friends."

"Do you know where she lives?" Melanie asked, wanting nothing more than to get away from there.

"What, you don't?" the girl said. "Didn't you say you were friends with her?"

Melanie's mind was racing, searching for possible answers, but she had none. She opened her mouth, hoping that words would come to her, but of course none came.

Just as she was considering walking back the way she came, another girl approached them. She was dressed in normal tattered jeans and a dirty sweatshirt, and raised her ringed hand to take a bite out of what looked like a fruit bar.

"Sara, leave the poor girl alone," she berated the beige girl between chewing. To Melanie, she added, "You'll have to forgive her. She's been pretty prickly lately, since a group of girls have gone around stealing all our demons. Now she thinks every passerby is with them." She finished the snack and then tossed the wrapper haphazardly away. "Anyways, I know where Anita is, and I'll show you if you want."

Melanie almost made an audible sound of relief, but stifled it at the last minute. "Thank you," was all she said.

The beige girl – Sara – scowled. "God, you're way too nice, Laura. You'd better be grateful to her," she added to Melanie. "If it was me, I'd turn you away for your own good. That girl – Anita – she's weird. Dangerous. I wouldn't consort with her, if I were you."

Laura rolled her eyes. "That's enough, Sara. Those are just rumours. Why don't you go guard another road?"

After a moment's pause, Sara nodded curtly. She glared at Melanie one last time, then turned and disappeared down a side street.

Once she was out of earshot, Laura turned to Melanie and smiled. "Well, then, follow me. I'll show you to Anita." As they began walking, she continued, "I don't think she's dangerous, by the way. A little strange, yes, but nothing to worry about."

"You know her?" said Melanie, unable to help herself. She wasn't keen on starting a full-out conversation, but hearing that Anita was dangerous sparked her curiosity.

"Not really," Laura replied. "I mean, I've seen her a couple times, but I've never talked to her. She used to live in some posh area inside the city, but moved into the suburbs after… it happened. Don't mention this to her, by the way, in case it isn't true. I did hear a couple rumours about the urban territory of Seattle a while back. They say it was really unruly there, and there was some big drama between magical girls living in the area. I don't know how much of it is true, though. The city used to be able to support a lot of magical girls, though, so I wouldn't be surprised to hear of drama. That's what you get when you lump a lot of us together in the same place." She shrugged briefly, and Melanie thought she saw a brief look of sadness cross her face. "I never tried to get involved in it then, and I'm still trying to keep as far away as possible. But it's sorta hard, you know? Anyways, don't mind the rumours. They're never good to listen to, and most of it is usually crap."

Melanie remained silent, although she took in each word carefully. She questioned once again exactly what she was doing. Hearing the girl talk about Anita reminded Melanie just how much she didn't know her. Anita was basically a stranger, yet Melanie was going to turn up at her door in the next few minutes?

But it was too late to turn back.

"Here we are," Laura said before long, stopping in front of a half-crumbled building that used to be part of an identical row lining a nicely tended to street. There was a basketball hoop in the driveway, although it was overturned and covered in gravel and plaster. The van that had assumably once inhabited the garage was halfway into the neighbour's lawn, and the garage door was wide open. All the windows were broken, and shining glass shards could be seen on lower sections of the roof and in the garden.

All in all, the house was certainly not what Melanie had been expecting. It was just as ramshackle as the buildings around it, although it did look in slightly better shape than what Melanie was used to. The whole area seemed less affected by the catastrophe, in fact. She wondered briefly if she could somehow stay here. Maybe move into one of the houses and try to settle down for a while? Bargain with the other magical girls who lived there, and arrange some sort of agreement. But then she quickly banished the thought, not only because it was ridiculous to think of "settling down" in the middle of the apocalypse but also because she didn't want to imply a relationship with Anita. Once she had got her answers and a meal, she would be on her way. She would move on.

She realized Laura was still speaking to her, and blinked. "Sorry?"

Laura glanced at her from where she had been standing a few steps in front of her. "I just said I'll leave from here. I don't know Anita, so…" She turned and walked past Melanie back onto the street. "Good luck and sorry about earlier." Then she took off running, transforming as she did. She leapt onto a building on the opposite side of the street and disappeared onto the other side.

Melanie looked back at the house where Anita was, trying to summon her courage. She would have to give some input into whatever conversation lay ahead if she wanted to get some information out of Anita, but she wasn't looking forward to it. It would last all night if that girl talked as much as she had earlier.

But afterwards, she'd be done with her forever. She just had to think of that.

She walked forwards, skirting around the fallen basketball hoop carefully and trying to avoid the broken glass as best she could, aware that even a small shard could pierce her makeshift "shoes". By the time she reached the dented door, she knew she would need new ones. She winced as she felt the small lumps throughout the undersides of the cardboards threatening to poke through, and wondered if Anita would think it was rude for her to take off her shoes inside her house.

Then again, it wasn't really her house if the rumours were true.

As a last precaution against Anita (and her worn "shoes"), Melanie summoned her Soul Gem and transformed into her magical girl outfit, breathing in relief as she felt comfortable flats replace the cardboard under her feet. Now she wouldn't have to worry about getting pricked by the glass shards or Anita reading her mind. As long as she remembered to think about guarding herself…

Melanie only hesitated for a few more seconds before raising her hand and knocking.

There was a period of silence, and she begun to fear that it was the wrong house and she would have to begin her search all over again.

Then the door opened and a second later, Anita's head appeared from the other side. Her eyes fell on Melanie instantly, and an unreadable expression came onto her face.

"Oh. It's you." She said by way of greeting, not sounding surprised. "Well, you probably rethought my offer if you're here, so come in, I guess." She disappeared without giving Melanie time to reply, retreating back into her house.

Melanie stepped through the doorway slowly, looking around her apprehensively. The stairs were to her right, but the ceiling had collapsed on them, leaving only the bottom three visible. The carpet was also littered with plaster and wood chunks, but it was safer to walk through and had been cleared a bit, enough to leave a path. Still, she tread carefully and looked up now and again, half-expecting the rest of the ceiling to fall on her.

Anita lead Melanie into what used to be a living room area with three couches against each wall and a giant television against the fourth that was somehow still hanging – perhaps Anita had put it back – and stopped a little ways ahead of her, speaking over her shoulder. "Make yourself, uh… comfortable." She began walking towards a couch and paused before adding, "I hope you don't mind the dust."

Melanie paused on her way over to a tattered couch, glancing swiftly at Anita, as if to make sure those words had actually come out of her mouth.

Anita coughed. "Okay, sorry. That was a pretty bad joke." She turned, saw Melanie's expression, and smirked. "Fine, it was a goddamn awful joke. But I couldn't help myself. I do it to remind myself that I'm alive and this is actually happening to me. I'm not sure why, but it helps. Otherwise, I could just be living in a dream, you know. Sometimes in dreams, you're omniscient, so that would explain the mind-reading and stuff. Anyways, whatever. What have you got to say? I'm sure you didn't come here to raid my fridge – not like it's working or anything."

That had actually been part of the reason why Melanie had come, but she didn't mention it. Instead, she took a seat, smoothing out her skirt just to keep herself focused on something.

Anita sat in the couch right next to her and drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She wasn't transformed, but when she looked at Melanie, the latter got the odd feeling of being scrutinized.

"So," Anita said after a few minutes had gone by in silence. "What's up?"

Melanie looked at her, her brow scrunching and a frown playing across her mouth. She'd almost forgotten Anita had spoken before for the silence that had descended on them.

Anita grinned at the look on Melanie's face. "Well, if you're not going to say anything, I might as well say something, right?" She released one leg and let it swing casually over the side of the couch. "Am I wrong for assuming that you came here to talk to me? Or did you just want to listen to me a bit more? I know I can be pretty irresistible sometimes."

"I don't know how to start," Melanie said softly, fixing her eyes on the gritty carpet.

"Hmm," Anita hummed. "Okay, then. _I'll_ start. How about that?" When Melanie said nothing, she went on. "I don't really know how to say this exactly, but I'm sorta touched that you came and all. You're not the first person I've asked, but you're the first person who's taken me up on my offer. Guess I was right to think you're special." She fumbled for a loose thread on her cream-coloured sweater and tugged at it almost experimentally. "If I ask why, will you tell me?" She looked up from her sweater and smiled lightly, raising her hand with the ring. "Or do I need to read your mind again?"

"No," Melanie said as curtly as she could, hoping her mind barriers were in place.

Anita laughed. "Okay, I promise I won't do that… for now." She lowered her hand and let it fall onto the arm of the sofa without transforming. "So tell me: why'd you come?"

Melanie thought for a moment before deciding to be truthful. After all, Anita would probably figure out eventually if she skirted around her questions, and there was no point in lying either. "I came for food…" she started slowly, grimacing inwardly at how rude it sounded. Anita, however, only grinned. "And I want answers."

Despite the vagueness of the replies, the auburn-haired girl seemed satisfied. "Answers, eh?" she said. "And food. Not bad. Could be worse, I guess." She swung both her legs out in front of her and then stood. "Let's start with food, okay? That always helps to break the ice a little."

She headed towards one of the two doorways on either side of the room – the one they hadn't come through earlier. Only after she had disappeared did Melanie get up and follow her. She still wasn't completely sure about the orange magical girl. The cheerful façade continued to come off as a little strange; it unsettled her. And no matter what, she couldn't forget what the beige girl had said earlier.

_That girl – Anita – she's weird. Dangerous._

Melanie knew she should probably listen to Laura's advice and brush off the rumours, but in a world like the one she lived in, there was no harm in being cautious.

Still, she was only there for business, nothing else. As long as Anita wasn't really dangerous, there was probably no point in worrying too much. Even if she was, Melanie could hold her own against other magical girls, as she'd learned to do shortly after the disaster had struck. And if she needed to make a quick escape, she always had her trump card… Anita wasn't transforming either, even though Melanie had, which meant she didn't feel threatened that she was, at the moment, at a disadvantage. Melanie decided to hold onto that thought as proof that there was no reason to be overly wary.

She found Anita rummaging through cupboards in the kitchen. It was mainly intact, with only the usual dust and plaster sprinkled over every available surface. Something also smelled very bad, but Melanie resisted the urge to scrunch up her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth.

"Aha," Anita said as Melanie approached, reaching into the back of the cupboard and pulling out what looked like a black garbage bag. "Found it."

Melanie walked forward and paused at the counter. There were several chairs lined up along it, but she didn't take a seat. She didn't want to appear like she was getting too comfortable in Anita's house. Her goal was to avoid any implication of friendliness, for fear that Anita might take it as a prospect of friendship. The last thing she needed was to let Anita worm her way past her defences again.

Business. She was there for business.

Anita came over with her haul and put the bag down on the counter. Then she looked at Melanie expectantly, noticing her standing rigidly by a chair. "Well, sit down," she said, sounding amused.

Melanie didn't sit.

The other girl sighed, but gave up without comment. She peered into the garbage bag, wrinkling her nose at an unpleasant odour. "Ew… Guess I left it sit for too long." She reached in and felt around for a few moments before pulling out a box of… cereal? She held it up in front of her face, her eyebrows furrowing. After a few moments of appraising it, she shrugged and tossed it on the counter. "Here. Food," she said.

Melanie didn't come forward right away, not wanting to show any sign of desperation, and thus weakness, in front of Anita. She was hungry, but not so much that she would drool at the sight of food. It was only after Anita had dug out something for herself from the garbage bag that Melanie took a step towards the counter, reached out, and snatched up the cereal box. The cardboard was half-worn away and riddled with dents and tears where precious bits of cereal was escaping. Melanie briefly thought about replacing her shoes with the box after she was done with it, but it didn't look to be in the best shape to begin with, and she'd be tearing it apart in the next few minutes.

She set to work right away, finding a sizeable tear and widening it with her fingers until a few pieces of the cereal fell into her hand. She couldn't even tell what type of cereal it was anymore, and when she popped it into her mouth, the flakes tasted stale and were a little soggy, but she couldn't care less. To her, they were delicious. She resisted the urge to close her eyes. After living on scavenged scraps for the last while, this was absolute bliss.

Anita was eating out a cereal box she had retrieved for herself, although she was still watching Melanie. For the time being, Melanie didn't care quite as much. She ate in a cheerful silence, although to Anita, she appeared impassive at best.

She had only finished around half of the box when Anita spoke up. "Well, since you're a person of few words and all, I suppose I'm gonna have to force something out of you." She shook a few cereal flakes onto her palm and popped them into her mouth before speaking again. "What kind of answers are you looking for?"

Melanie waited until she had chewed and swallowed her current mouthful before glancing quickly up at Anita and then back down at the box. "Why me?" she asked eventually.

"Very forward. Nice." Anita set her box on the counter and leaned forward slightly. "Well, before I reply, can I ask you something first?" She didn't wait for Melanie to respond. "Why _me_?"

Melanie lowered the cereal box very slowly, staring at Anita. She was sure that if she didn't think this through carefully, she'd–

"You said I was interesting." The words were out before she could stop them, and for the second time that day, she found herself wishing she could snatch them back out of the air but found no such success. All she could do was clamp her mouth shut, her eyes scurrying away from Anita's.

This was _why_ she never talked. She was always afraid of what might come out. Silence was safe, and it never expected anything from her. She could let it enfold her and stay like that for as long as she wanted. Words came with expectations, inflections, _thoughts_. These weren't things she was comfortable with, and definitely not something she wanted others to turn around on her as a weakness.

But to her surprise, Anita didn't laugh or even smirk. She just tilted her head slightly to the side, her expression strangely neutral. "I did, didn't I?" she said slowly. "Well, I meant it, so if that's why you're here, that's a good thing. So why you? I dunno. I did say before that I'd offer to take anyone in who needed some help, and I meant it. But there are some people who you just don't want to mess with – most people, actually – which is why I've ended up alone. But you– You're different. They say a lonely magical girl is a normal magical girl, but I hate that. There are people out there who are worth knowing. I guess I've just seen something in you that I've latched onto. Something worth a lot more than what I see in other people. Some like-mindedness, maybe?" She frowned. "It's difficult to explain how I read thoughts, so I can't really explain the whole process to you."

Melanie's eyes narrowed as Anita talked. She wasn't really sure how much of her words she should take at face-level. She had first assumed Anita was a straightforward person, but now she was beginning to involuntarily uncover a few layers, and Anita's words were only steepening her wariness… but also her curiosity.

To Anita, all she said was, "Try."

Anita laughed at that. "I'd rather not. Believe it or not, I have my secrets, and a lot of them revolve around my power. But to answer your question properly, you're interesting to me because you fly solo and you're unusually quiet without any apparent reason." She poured another handful of cereal. "People like you are rarer than you think, you know. Also, you appear to be more or less sane. That's pretty impressive."

Melanie wasn't sure how to reply to that, so she didn't.

"So," said Anita after swallowing another mouthful of the flakes. "How old are you exactly?"

Melanie frowned deeply at the sudden question, but answered, "Fourteen."

"Oh. Older than I thought," said Anita, then added hastily, "No offence. Actually, you should take it as a compliment, since most people I come across are in the fifteen to seventeen age group."

Melanie didn't even blink at the comment, let alone take it as an insult or a compliment. "How old are you?"

"Mm… Fifteen," Anita replied.

That was younger than Melanie had thought, but she didn't make any comment. The thought occurred to her about how easily it was to lie about one's age anyway. There were two ways to interpret a magical girl's age, after all, and physical appearance often belied chronological age, as magical girls stopped aging after contracting. Still, Anita looked older than fifteen.

Melanie decided not to think about it too much and get back to the point. "Do you think I should travel with others?" she asked in the most straightforward way possible. She wasn't asking for Anita's opinion, but rather clarification.

Anita blinked. "Well, no. _I_ don't travel with others, so I won't advise others to either. It's just strange, that's all. How did you survive the apocalypse?" She seemed to think better of the question a second later and corrected herself, "You don't have to answer that. I wasn't thinking of… Never mind." She placed her cereal box on the counter and smiled faintly. "So do you have any more questions that need answers, or did you just come all the way here to ask me why I took interest in you?"

Melanie was in the middle of dabbing her fingertips with her tongue so she could get the crumbs at the bottom of the box, but she looked back at Anita when she spoke. "The journey," she said. "You said you were going on a journey."

Anita grinned. "So you remembered that? Is that one of the reasons why you're here? Okay, I'll be honest. I saw something in your mind about it, so that's why I said it."

Melanie's eyes narrowed at that, and her grip around the cereal box became tighter as her body tensed. Was this some sort of trap after all? Was Anita really dangerous? She'd used something she'd found in Melanie's head to manipulate her to come here. Granted, it was insignificant compared to other things she could have scooped out of her mind, but it felt like a breach of privacy nonetheless.

Anita seemed to realize the change in atmosphere. "I really didn't intend to use it in a deceiving way," she apologized. "Actually, I was a little curious about it – that more than anything. I thought it was so small that it wouldn't have any effect anyways."

Melanie didn't say anything and continued to glare at Anita suspiciously.

At last the auburn-haired girl raised her hands helplessly. "I'm sorry, alright? I won't do it again; you have my word. I'd still like to hear about it, though." She gave Melanie the briefest imploring glance.

Melanie's jaw clenched and she didn't reply. She'd come here to ask questions, not to be asked questions. Somehow, Anita had managed to turn the situation around on her or swerve off-topic, not that there ever _was_ a topic to start with. She was beginning to wonder if it was all on purpose – that perhaps Anita was toying with her somehow. She'd already shown that she could.

"What do you want with me?" she said at long last. She couldn't remember her voice ever having sounded as hoarse as it did in that moment. This was the most she had talked in a long while, and now it seemed that her days of going with saying anything unless absolutely necessary were finally showing their effects. It didn't sound weak, but it didn't remind her at all of how she had sounded before. So self-assured. So happy… But those days were like a dream now, before she started having to worry about her survival and, of course, before she'd welcomed silence into her life, like an old friend. Now she was pushing it away again, but she could still feel it. An urge to close her mouth and leave it like that. It seemed very tempting. And it would be possible if she had been talking with anyone other than Anita.

At Melanie's question, Anita paused as she reached for her cereal box again. Melanie sensed a change in her instantly, and was alert at once, albeit a little confused.

Anita dropped her arm to the hem of her sweater and began tugging almost habitually at the bottom of it, even though she'd snapped off the loose end ages ago. "Okay, look. I'm gonna be straight with you if that's really what you want to know. Maybe you realized by now, but I'm a pretty open person. You seem to accept that, or at least, you don't complain or just walk away while I'm in the middle of talking like others do." She looked up at Melanie and gave the briefest of grins. "I appreciate that a lot. So let me clear things up. I could just say that I want to give you a place to stay for the night – maybe pop out another cereal box tomorrow for the road – you know. But there's something about you, and I'm not just messing with you here. You know earlier when I asked about your wish?"

Melanie gave the faintest of nods to show she was listening, although she had no idea where the auburn-haired girl was going with this.

"Well, usually, I can at least figure something out from a girl's thoughts right away. But there's something about you that I can't figure out. Some sort of mystery." Anita's hand came to rest on the counter, and her ring glittered faintly, lit by an unseen source. "It's not everyday that I meet someone who can get around my magic. I may have made a simple wish, but sometimes those kinds of wishes bring about the best powers. So here's what I'm asking." She cleared her throat as if she were about to give some really important speech. "See, you're a loner. And I'm a loner. But loneliness doesn't really suit me. And I'll tell you something really good: the fastest way to fall into despair is to shut out the world."

She stared at Melanie, her words dwindling into silence, and for the first time, Melanie saw something in her gaze that caused a part of her that she had buried deep inside to stir. A sadness that implored her to see a truth that Anita had already discovered, but had locked carefully away. Perhaps she had not even meant for Melanie to catch a glimpse of it, although the latter felt far from guilty considering Anita's ability.

For the next few seconds, a silence descended on the pair. But not one Melanie liked. It was heavy, and was encouraging words to penetrate it. Melanie could almost feel it around her, and in it, the possibilities of what she could say and where it would lead. This silence was like a timer, passing away the seconds until she came up with a response.

First, she tried to comprehend what Anita was telling her. Clearly the point was not to teach her a lesson, so apart from that, the meaning was clear.

Anita wanted an alliance.

It was unthinkable – something Melanie would never even waste time considering. And yet she stood there, looking at a point somewhere past Anita so she could have been staring right at her, given pause by her words.

In the early days after the catastrophe had struck, Melanie's world was thrown into chaos. Only one thing remained clear to her: she was alone. And she got used to it; her continued survival only managed to prove that she could live without relying on others. Any magical girl she had run into fleeing from the eastern states or south from Canada avoided her as earnestly as she avoided them. She had seen all manner of magical girls, ranging in age, ability, and race. And while she sometimes joined in coordinated group attacks with other girls in order to clear an area of demons, she never accepted offers to join, nor did she ever extend a request of her own. She had been asked by powerful warrior girls and weaker, inexperienced girls. She had been asked by older girls and younger girls alike.

But now here was a girl barely older than herself whose fighting style was nothing less than typical, but who had an ability that shattered Melanie's defences. She tried to conjure up a part of herself that could still look at this situation and see reason – a part of her that would duly tell her that this was just another empty offer, and that she should walk away and continue with her life, as she always had. That was the easy way out and, as she had thought, the only way out. _Especially_ with a girl like Anita, who frightened Melanie – who made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

But that logical train of thought had all but abandoned her, and she felt more defenceless than ever before. Even her shields would do her no good here; Anita had torn through them again, even if unintentionally.

There were two ways she could leave this situation. The first was something she was well practiced at and the second was unfathomable. She tried to imagine traveling with Anita, and felt a prick of trepidation, although it was almost nothing compared to something else that was gnawing at her. A sort of emptiness that accompanied her thoughts of turning down the offer, and of slipping back into a world full of uncertainty. A world she had to face alone. A world that had never been kind to her and would one day kill her. Anita had said that the quickest way to fall into despair was shutting out the world, and she looked like she understood. Melanie couldn't explain it or even justify it to herself, but something in Anita's eyes told her that she had experience with real solitude. How much longer could Melanie go on the way she was, ignoring a truth that even she knew existed?

"Hey." Anita's gentle voice jolted her out of her pensive state, and Melanie looked up sharply at the other girl as she spoke. "You know what I'm asking, I guess. You don't have to decide right now. You can stay here for the night and get some rest, then let me know tomorrow. I'm not gonna talk about it anymore if you don't want to." She smiled faintly. "At least if you're thinking about it this hard, I know I might have a chance. But for now, let's get you a change of clothes and somewhere you can sleep. Other than the sofa, of course."

Melanie opened her mouth, but then closed it again. After all, what could she say? Rejecting an offer of refuge for the night would be stupid, even if she was still unsure about Anita's proposal, and would seem strange after she'd so readily accepted food.

She ended up giving a brief nod, but Anita was already walking past her and didn't notice.

"Turns out this place has an earthquake room," said Anita. "Or at least, that's what I think it is. I've been sleeping in there since I found it… y'know, just in case. You can take it tonight, though, if you want. I can find somewhere else to crash pretty easily." She paused at the doorway and glanced back at Melanie. "If you don't want to do that, upstairs is not as unstable as it looks. At least, I'm pretty sure it'll hold you."

That did not reassure Melanie. "The earthquake room is fine," she said, a frown forming on her lips for reason unknown even to her.

Anita nodded. "Okay. There're some blankets and stuff that I've scrounged from the surrounding houses. They aren't the best quality, but I'm sure you'll find them comfortable enough. Just follow me. I'll show you where it is." Anita beckoned to Melanie briefly before walking out of the room.

Melanie followed her almost immediately, trying to silence the buzz in her head. Pondering could wait until later. Much later.

Anita led her to a small door just outside of the kitchen, built sturdily into the wall. At first glance, it didn't appear to have any hinges, and it took quite a lot of heaving on Anita's part to force it open. Inside was a very small space that could not even deserve to be called a chamber. Melanie wasn't even sure if there was enough room to stretch out. It _did_ look secure, though, with a steel framework showing through the peeling plaster. And it seemed like it was meant to be able to hold long-term survival equipment, as well as store food from the looks of the heavily secured shelves on one side. Whoever had owned the house must have been anticipating a true disaster to occur to build a refuge like this. She briefly wondered if they had even managed to make it here before the actual disaster occurred and where they were now. But she quickly dismissed those thoughts as soon as she started thinking a little too much about them. They were meaningless now, and would get her nowhere.

She exchanged a very brief goodnight with Anita, avoiding her gaze as she did so. As much as she knew it was rude, she still refused to show any signs of amiability. It was a far stretch from animosity, so surely she wasn't offending Anita. Mainly, she didn't want to convey any silent messages that might prompt Anita to find more ways to prod at her. She already felt like the girl had picked her apart enough.

She crawled into the tiny space and transitioned almost reflexively back into her normal clothes as she felt a sudden weariness overcome her. She hadn't realized before how tired she was, so constant a feeling was it. She didn't even bother removing her shoes or closing the door, but simply slumped onto her side. She had a feeling that Anita wasn't going to bother her that night. She wasn't sure where it came from or even if it was true, but it was what allowed her to relax as sleep took her in its firm grip. Annoyingly, the last thing that floated across her mind before she lost consciousness were Anita's words: ' _The fastest way to fall into despair is to shut out the world…_ '

* * *

Melanie woke with a start to harsh sunlight. For a moment, she felt compelled to go back to sleep, but a thought occurred to her that made her heart lurch: _Wait,_ sunlight? Sunlight was nonexistent in her world, completely choked out by dust. Either she was dreaming or… She couldn't even think of another possibility.

After months of being used to the fogginess of the world, the sunlight drew tears from Melanie's eyes – not from joy, but rather because it _hurt_. She wasn't used to it.

She sat up… and nearly hit her head squarely on the low ceiling of the refuge where she had fallen asleep the previous night. She felt confusion as she took in her surroundings. She was definitely not dreaming, since her dreams never held any traces of continuity from her waking life in them, and she could fully remember recent events. Furthermore, she could still see the dust in the air, illuminated by the light, although it wasn't as thick as she was used to.

What was going on?

"Welcome to the realm of the living!"

The cheerful voice made Melanie jump involuntarily, and she had just enough time and reflex to tilt her head before it came in contact with the ceiling. Not long after she'd settled with a scowl working its way across her features did Anita appear at the door. Her figure obscured the bright light and cast the room back into shadow, but Melanie could still see her smile.

"Good morning," she said. "Did you have a good sleep?"

Her overly bright attitude seemed weird, even for her. Melanie wondered if the sunlight was somehow having a psychological effect on her. She remembered reading an article once about how sunlight made people happier. If so, it only appeared to be working on Anita.

When Melanie didn't answer, but kept glaring at Anita, the other girl seemed to get the general idea and her smile dimmed. "I, uh… made breakfast," she announced at last. "When you're ready, come to the kitchen. We'll talk then, okay?" Then she straightened and walked towards the right, disappearing from Melanie's sight.

Once she was sure the other girl was gone, Melanie sat up and stifled a yawn. She brushed a stray strand of brown hair from her face absent-mindedly and then looked down at herself. She wasn't even sure why she did, since she wasn't particularly vain, and she knew what she should expect to see. Somehow, the sight still surprised her. In the sunlight, she could see how tattered her clothes really were. Each tear in her jeans stood out, although her exposed skin was almost identical to the fabric in its filthiness. Her once-purple shirt was smudged with dirt that she knew she would never get out, no matter how long she washed it. A fleeting image of what she thought her face looked like scurried across her mind, and she couldn't help but give a rueful smile. The light was a nice change from the usual haze she was used to, but it also made everything seem a lot more… stark. It didn't match with the ruined state of the world.

She blinked once and turned her eyes away from herself. A clattering from the general direction of the kitchen drew her attention and she remembered Anita's invitation to breakfast. Well, it was more like an order, but Melanie didn't feel obliged to go either way, knowing full well what kind of conversation Anita intended to initiate.

A grumble from her stomach insisted otherwise.

Sighing, Melanie turned and crawled out of the little shelter room. She felt surprisingly well-rested, considering that she had been sleeping in a cramped space. Maybe it was because it was the first time in a while that she had gone to sleep without worrying about being woken by a demon's laser.

Once she was out, she got to her feet and was transformed before she had even fully straightened. The night had not brought any obvious suspicious behaviour from Anita (as far as she could tell, considering she'd been in deep sleep), but she wasn't ready to let her guard down just yet. She also glanced around for the source of the light, and found that it was streaming in from all possible openings – the empty window frames on either side of the doorway and, assumably, likewise from the living room. It even seemed to be coming from above, although that wasn't surprising, seeing the state of the roof.

What was the reason for the sunlight finally managing to battle its way through the thick cloud of dust? Melanie hadn't seen light like this since the start of the apocalypse, and she had assumed that she would never see it again. The sudden change was baffling – so much so that she was still refusing to fully register that it was happening. Maybe she was finally going crazy.

Instead of pondering on that particularly difficult question, Melanie headed towards the kitchen… which brought up another difficult question. She supposed that the talk between her and Anita would happen eventually, whether she liked it or not. She was hungry and Anita was offering food, so it would be foolish to just up and leave. But what was she going to do about the auburn-haired girl's request? She'd only just met her the previous day, and it was in a situation that wasn't out of the ordinary with what she was used to. She hadn't formed any immediate connection or bonds with Anita just from that first encounter. Going off of that, it was natural for Melanie to refuse, _especially_ considering her track record with allying herself with other magical girls. She just didn't do it.

So why _exactly_ did she feel herself gravitating towards Anita, of all people? That was a question that she was going to have to come up with an answer to, sometime in the near future, and it was no doubt going to spawn a plethora of new questions that she would have to face before then. But whatever answer she came up with would decide her fate.

She decided that she would take it step-by-step. Starting with breakfast.

Anita was strangely absent when she arrived in the kitchen, which gave Melanie an instant sense of relief. At least she didn't have to start answering questions right away.

She spotted a box of cereal sitting on the counter and smirked. So Anita hadn't really "made" breakfast. Still, she wasn't disappointed by the sight of it. In the next half minute, she was happily digging through the contents of the box.

As she ate, the beginnings of a thought occurred to her – an idea. And no matter how she tried to push it aside, it kept coming back.

She knew she had to deal with Anita's proposition sooner or later. Ignoring it would only land her in an awkward situation, and she would prefer it if her inevitable talk with Anita was short and to the point rather than long. But an alliance with Anita was such an alien idea that she didn't even want to spend time discussing it one way or the other. How could she refuse and make a quick escape? How could she agree without sounding too eager? She couldn't. Not with someone like Anita. The next option was a compromise. That was the thought had been plaguing her since she had woken up.

A compromise.

Anita wanted something from her – that much was clear. And it wasn't just an alliance. But did Melanie want anything from her? Was there anything worthwhile that Anita could offer her?

The answer, plain and simple, was: there could be.

As long as she continued to make this like a business deal, she could avoid sending any wrong messages to Anita. And if she profited from an alliance, surely that would make it a good idea.

Probably.

Anita returned much later, after Melanie had already finished eating. When she walked into the kitchen, she found Melanie there, seated placidly on one of the chairs, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the surface of the counter.

"Hello," she said in a sort of pleasant surprise.

Melanie, who was caught off guard, jumped a little at the voice, but quickly composed herself. Her fingers halted mid-tap. She didn't reply, but acknowledged Anita by meeting her gaze.

Instead of taking a seat next to her, Anita walked to the other side of the counter again and leaned onto it. "You're still here," she commented mildly. "Does that mean I have a chance?"

"I want to talk," said Melanie quietly.

"So I guessed." Anita rested her chin on her hand, looking intently at Melanie. "Well, go ahead then. I won't interrupt."

"I want a temporary… alliance." The word sounded weird in Melanie's mouth. "Only until I get to the… the Solen Bridge. That's where I'm going."

Anita raised an eyebrow. "The Solen Bridge? So _that's_ the journey you were thinking about before?" A sort of frown came onto her face, although Melanie wasn't sure if it was because of the mention of the bridge or not. "And you want me to help you get there?"

"Yes," Melanie confirmed simply. She sat stone still in her chair, eyes fixed on Anita. "You were interested in it before."

"Yes, but…" Anita tilted her head, a strange expression on her face. "Why do you want to go there? And why do you need me?"

Melanie looked away, and only answered one of Anita's questions. "It's safer." She couldn't deny that there were dangers out there for a lone magical girl, especially one traveling a considerable distance, from city to city. The entrance to the Solen Bridge was located in Port Angeles down south, and that would surely be largely populated by magical girls… and demons. Demons were the real problem above all, but encountering them in a city wasn't the problem. They became a real danger in unpopulated areas, like the wilderness where there weren't any active magical girls to fight them off. They could reach numbers far over a hundred – in other words, suicide for one magical girl. Suicide for two even, but at least they could keep a lookout together.

At least, that was the way Melanie thought of it. She _wouldn't_ accept the idea that she was agreeing to Anita's alliance because she wanted company. That was absurd. Melanie had felt many things while traveling alone after the disaster had struck, but one of them had not been loneliness. Emptiness, sure, but never loneliness.

Anyways, if she looked at this from yet another angle, Anita would reap benefits from the deal, even after it ended. If what Melanie had heard about the Solen Bridge was true, there would be many other magical girls there for Anita to form alliances with. As for Melanie, focusing on a long-term goal like reaching the bridge would help to stave off the emptiness in her whenever she thought of the future. She now had something definite to work towards other than her own survival.

In other words, the alliance would be a good thing for both of them. And once it was over, they would part and go their separate ways. Even if traveling with Anita still wasn't the most appealing thought to Melanie, she just had to focus on where it was going to get her.

Anita had been silent for a while with a vacant expression, and Melanie wondered if she'd finally said something for which the girl of many words had no answer.

At last Anita spoke, only saying one word. "Okay."

Melanie looked back towards Anita and furrowed her eyebrows in a questioning manner.

There was another, briefer silence after which Anita said, "I'll come with you. If that's the only way you'll let us travel together, then I'm fine with it. I need to get out of here anyways, so the Solen Bridge it is. That's a bizarre destination, if I've ever heard one, but I've always wanted to see it myself. I still have some questions, and I bet you do too, but whatever for now. We'll have plenty of time for them later."

She looked like she would have carried on talking, but Melanie interrupted suddenly. "I have some terms."

Anita frowned. "Terms?"

"You won't read my mind," said Melanie. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and met Anita's eyes defiantly. "For anything."

Anita shrugged. "That can be done, I suppose. Anything else?"

Melanie paused. She tried to think of anything immediate that she should mention, but nothing came to her, except the mind-reading.

When a few minutes of silence had passed, Anita smiled, although it didn't carry any radiance, then held out her hand to Melanie. "Allies, then?"

Melanie hesitated, but it only lasted for a few seconds. Now that she had initiated the deal, she couldn't back out. She nodded in reply and took Anita's hand, giving it a short, quick shake. The contact left a tingling in her own hand as she drew it back, reminding her of how long it had been since she'd last had direct human contact. Anita would never know exactly how many barriers she'd broken through with just that one gesture. Melanie's eyes narrowed slightly, and she fixed them on the ground, but still watched Anita out of the corner of her eye.

The auburn-haired girl leaned back, holding the counter for balance, and grinned. A bit of her usual optimism began showing again. "Good. Now I trust you not to suddenly run off on me or anything. I'll keep my word, and you'll keep yours, right?"

Melanie didn't reply. Anita's voice was friendly, but there was something else in it. A sort of cautiousness? She couldn't tell.

"Now," said Anita, and she walked around the counter towards Melanie. "There's something important I think we should both take care of before we leave."

Melanie swung her legs out from under the counter, but didn't stand. "What?"

Anita laughed. "What do you think? This." She spread her arms, motioning around them. When Melanie's confused expression persisted, she said, "The sunlight. What better way to start our alliance than solving a mystery together?"

She walked past Melanie and, with a flash of orange light, she'd transformed. "We don't have far to go," she said, and turned back to face Melanie. "I have an idea of who we can ask about this. Just follow me."

Melanie slipped off of the chair and went to join Anita. She was conscious of the other girl's magical form and, despite the promise she'd made, she willed her mind to be completely shielded. She could never be too sure, after all, with the other girl's power that didn't make itself known unless she decided to mention it. She groaned inwardly at the thought of having to keep up this mental defence for the next little while as they traveled to the Solen Bridge, and once again had to remind herself about why she'd entered this agreement in the first place.

She could already tell that this was going to be a long journey. The day before, she would have been traveling alone, but now she was with Anita. She could make no predictions about the future, and had to let go of her past habits. Whatever happened from now until the bridge would be shared with another.

She wasn't even sure what she was questioning anymore – her decision, Anita's character, or just her existence in general. Most likely all three. And something told her she was never going to get a clear answer for any of them – at least, not in the near future.

"Come on," said Anita, walking from the kitchen, clearly unaffected by Melanie's brooding (which at least meant she didn't have access to her thoughts). "Let's figure this out, shall we?"

This time, Melanie only hesitated for a heartbeat before following her.


	5. Establishments

Melanie had still not quite gotten used to the idea of following someone. There were occasions in battle when she would take orders from other magical girls for the sake of strategy, but it wasn't quite the same. It didn't require commitment. Teaming up in battle was efficient and beneficial for all participants and it involved neither personal ties nor contracts. An alliance was different. An alliance spoke of a long-term connection, and that required commitment. No matter if it was a business deal or not, Melanie was still in an agreement that went beyond survival.

It had been a long time since she'd been committed to anyone. Now she was letting a girl lead her somewhere and she didn't know where she was going. She wasn't following her as a soldier might follow their captain. She was following her like the other girls she'd seen in their small groups, allowing one of their members to take the lead and trusting that that person knew what to do.

Trust was another thing that came with an alliance. Cooperation didn't call for it; in fact, Melanie didn't trust any of the girls she met during a demon battle. But here she was, trusting Anita – someone she'd just agreed to ally with after meeting her during one such battle.

It was a strange world she lived in.

"Not far now," Anita was saying. "They always gather in the same place, even before the apocalypse – the girls who live around here. Sometimes I visit them." She gave a small, dry laugh which Melanie couldn't tell was directed to herself or not, and then muttered. "Crash the party, more like."

Melanie didn't reply, although in that instance, it wasn't because she didn't know what to say. She supposed Anita would get used to her "companionable" silence after a while, even though the term was usually meant to be atmospheric, whereas in this case, it was completely one-sided. And in a way, she liked Anita's chatter. It gave her something to focus on – a distraction from the chatter of her own thoughts.

Of course, she wasn't allowing herself to become emotionally attached. But it would help make the journey seem less long if she tried to find a few things in Anita that she didn't mind.

The sunlight had persisted for a few blocks after they'd left Anita's house, but then had suddenly vanished as if someone had pulled a switch, to be replaced once again by the cloud of dust and the constant shadows of the darkened world, so that they were walking once again in partial darkness with dust swirling around them like a heavy, grim snowfall.

Well, "vanish" was probably an improper word. More accurately, it had receded gradually, but fast enough to be noticeable. Melanie could still see the faint outline of the sun, but the very fact that she could look right at it and not be blinded was proof enough of how thick the layer of dust already was, and it was increasing each second. It wasn't as thick as the area Melanie had just come from, where she couldn't even see the sun at all, but it was still there as it had always been. The shock of the return of reality almost made Melanie wonder if that short time of sunlight had been real, or just a dream, induced by fatigue or hunger or even insanity. But of course, none of those could be true. She'd just slept for a good long while and had eaten two meals within hours of each other. And she wasn't insane. Not yet.

"Okay, we're here," Anita announced, coming to a stop.

They were standing on what was once a sidewalk, which curved to form a street corner. Neither the corner nor the street around it stood out much from the others they had passed, and the building in front of them was no less ramshackle than those around it. The windows were covered in long, chipped boards that had been leaned there on purpose, probably sometime after the apocalypse had struck, judging from their neat positioning. They were meant to provide privacy, rather than send a message of closure – that much was clear. But privacy from what?

Melanie, of course, could already guess at the answer.

Even with the boards blocking the windows, it was easy to guess what the building was, from the sign above the door. It was cracked and no longer lit up, but Melanie would know that symbol anywhere. The long hair, the crown...

"Starbucks?" Melanie said, trying not to sound too skeptical. Holding magical girl meetings was one thing she'd never heard of before… but having them in one of the most popular cafés in the country (or the world, more likely)?

"Sometimes the best place to hide is the most obvious spot," Anita said, although she sounded like she was quoting someone. "Also, they sort of hijacked the place before all this happened... They needed somewhere safe to meet that was convenient for all the girls, and this was the best spot they could find. A lot of people does increase the risk of being overheard, but too little people actually increases those chances even more. Best to have a bit of noise, I guess.

"Anyways, let's go in. I doubt you're the first stranger they've let in recently."

Instead of making a further inquiry about how exactly they'd "hijacked" Starbucks, Melanie simply nodded.

Anita didn't even bother to knock, but simply shoved the board covering the door to one side and opened it, beckoning to Melanie.

By the time Melanie reached her, however, another girl in magical garb was standing in the middle of the doorway, scowling at Anita. She placed her hand possessively on the door as if to let them know she could close it if she wanted. "No miscreants allowed," she said darkly.

Anita crossed her arms and jerked the thumb of her exposed left hand at Melanie. "She's with me."

Melanie frowned, but didn't have time to feel too offended.

"I meant you." The girl glared at Anita, unblinking.

Anita gave her a small smile, like an adult appraising a misbehaving child, or else someone regarding something they felt was beneath them. "Oh, I know you meant me. But don't worry; like I said, she's with me, so I'll behave."

Melanie managed to stop her head mid-turn and blinked at the ground, her lips tugging downwards.

The girl raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "I didn't know you kept companions around, least of all a morality pet. Hey," she continued, turning to peer at Melanie. "Are you with this girl?"

Melanie felt like she was at a country border, talking to a customs guard who was asking if she was with her real parents and not being kidnapped. She very nearly rolled her eyes, despite the action feeling uncharacteristic, but instead answered, "Yes."

Anita turned her head slightly to give her a sideways smile, as if her mere confirmation of the truth had been some sort of secret token of camaraderie. Melanie purposefully avoided meeting her eyes.

"So is there still a problem?" Anita asked, turning her attention back to the girl. "Are you guys holding a meeting or something? If you are, you know I have a right to be there."

The girl hesitated, like she was frantically trying to come up with a valid excuse to turn them away when a faintly recognizable voice called from inside the café. "Hey! What the hell's going on out there?"

"Nothing!" the girl yelled back, then gave Anita her worst glare. "Alright, fine, come in. Just don't cause trouble, okay? There are little kids here."

"Obviously." Anita strode past the girl and into the café without waiting to see if Melanie was behind her. "I came to talk to the boss anyways, so I'll save my worst for later."

Melanie stepped forward, but just before she reached the threshold, the other girl stepped in front of her, barring her way. She bared her teeth at her in what could either be interpreted as a grin or a leer and rested her arm against the doorframe above her head, settling for a casual position.

"Never seen you around here before," she commented.

Melanie held her gaze, her face as neutral as it could be. "Anita is my ally," she said calmly, by way of explanation.

"Yeah, you just said," the girl replied. "But that still doesn't explain who _you_ are. Where are you from? What's your business with Anita?"

"It's none of your business," Melanie said. The prickliness of the local girls was beginning to get on her nerves. Was it a side effect of the richer part of town or was it something else that was causing this automatic distrust of outsiders? Magical girls went where they pleased, passing through areas without checking with any territory holders, probably due to the common assumption that most areas no longer had an official holder.

The girl shrugged in response and moved aside to allow Melanie through. But as she passed, she spoke up from behind her. "If you're her accomplice or something and you stir up any shit, I'll make it my business and I'll make you regret it. Just so we're clear."

Melanie paused for half a second, which was the only indication she gave that she'd heard, before continuing into the café. She wouldn't even dream of doing something so stupid.

The place was large by Starbucks standards, so it was probably in a once-popular spot. The counter and display of food – currently completely empty, including the crumbs – was on the left of the entrance, with various tables scattered all over the room, some overturned and some still upright. All the tables were missing their chairs, some of which were evident in broken legs and seats that had been swept off to one side in the place where people would normally line up to order. Melanie spotted the rest directly after first observing the counter. They had been clustered by the fireplace in the far corner and were occupied by at least fifteen girls. A few had scored the really comfortable armchairs and couches, while the rest were left to sit in the standard wooden seats or even on the floor. Some were sitting in small groups, with three girls sharing a couch, but for the most part, the chairs were arranged so that there was a noticeable distance between them. So the girls were, for the most part, strangers.

Anita was leaning on the wall beside the fireplace, since there were no available chairs left, and Melanie automatically headed towards her. She may have been reluctant to show any signs of familiarity or bonds with Anita despite the alliance, but she wasn't stupid enough to disprove what she'd said before about being allies with her, thus creating suspicion. There was no telling what the girl who had "greeted" them would do, and besides, she might have some allies gathered in the group. It would be safer to assume she could back up her threat. For her own purposes, Melanie was capable of maintaining a ruse.

Anita was dangerously close to the trio on the couch, one of whom was glancing at her out of the corner of her eye with a mixture of awkwardness and nervousness. Anita didn't seem to notice. Her arms were crossed again, and she was tapping the fingers of her left hand against her right arm. Melanie stopped near her, a little closer than the distance most of the girls were sitting from each other, but far enough away for her liking. Anita didn't even look at her, but continued drumming her fingers and staring off into space, which seemed a little bit strange for her. Melanie decided not to linger on it, though. She was sure there were many intriguing things about Anita that might spark her curiosity, but the same could be said about herself. And she wasn't about to let Anita know why she did some of the things she did.

Thinking that reminded her to devote some concentration on her mental shields. Anita had promised, yes, but she could easily be reading Melanie's mind without her knowledge like she'd done before.

The girl they'd met at the door had rejoined the group by that time, settling on one of the sofas next to another girl with long, light blonde hair. Once she was seated, the blonde stood. She looked older than most of the girls assembled (or at least she was taller), so it was safe to assume she was probably the authority figure in the room. So the girl beside her must be some sort of sidekick. "Okay, we're not gonna wait for anyone else to show up. Let's just start already."

"God. Yes, please." The familiar voice Melanie had heard shouting from the doorway earlier spoke from somewhere near the far edge of the group.

Melanie craned her neck over the heads of the girls to see who'd spoken. Her eyes widened when she spotted a familiar pair seated in chairs positioned right next to each other, one dressed in a beige jacket and the other in a teal dress. It was the girls she had met earlier, one of whom had directed her to Anita's house. Laura and… Sara, was it? From the tone of voice, Melanie guessed it was Sara who had spoken.

Her guess had been right. Sara was supporting her head with one hand with her elbow resting on her knee, so her short, dark red hair was nearly completely obscuring one side of her face. Her uncovered expression showed annoyance. "Feels like we've been waiting around for ages and for who? Not the freaking president, but the orange rogue and her random pal."

"Then it looks like you got someone better," Anita spoke up, smiling sweetly at Sara and coming out of her momentary trance. "No offence to Mr. President, but he's not exactly qualified to be at this meeting."

Sara glared at her, raising her head from her palm, but didn't reply after Laura whispered something frantically in her ear and gave her shoulder a quick pat.

"Well," said the tall blonde, after a few moments' silence. She gave Anita quick look before sweeping her gaze around the room to let everyone know she was about to address them. "Now that we've established that everyone of importance is here, why don't we begin? For anyone who's not from the area, my name's Denise and I'm… well, I _was_ the territory holder, since you can't really call this place a territory anymore. A few of us have stuck around to guard this place, but–"

"What happened to Jackie?" Anita said suddenly.

Denise's head turned back to Anita. A quick, indescribable expression crossed her face, but then she cleared her throat and said flatly, "She's dead."

"When?" Anita pressed.

Denise looked uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to say something, but the girl next to her who had confronted them at the door cut in.

"It's none of your business," she said sharply, echoing what Melanie had told her before. "Now listen up or piss off. We're _trying_ to hold a civilized meeting here."

Anita didn't respond, but neither did she look like she was going to comply with the orders. The girls around Denise were beginning to eye Anita in a strange way, like predators sizing up their prey. An idea came to Melanie which she hoped would fail, but tried nonetheless, since she didn't want to be part of a fight. She stopped focusing on protecting her mind and let one thought fill it up, hoping it would be the only one that was readable: _Shut up_.

Anita's head jerked in her direction suddenly, her eyes widening in surprise.

Well, that confirmed one doubt Melanie had.

Still, the moment of tension seemed to have passed because Denise spoke up again. Melanie put her mental barriers back in place and reminded herself to talk to Anita later about the part of their deal she was failing to uphold.

"Well, um... we have two things I wanted to talk about today," Denise was saying. "Well… two things of major importance. They sort of involve anyone in the area, which is why there're a few guests here. Anyways, I'm sure everyone's confused about the sun suddenly deciding to show its face. I'm guessing that's why there's so many people I haven't seen before. So before anything else, let's resolve that." She swept the group with her eyes again, and her gaze lingered on Melanie for a few moments before moving on. "Just to be clear, I'm not the one causing this. And none of the girls I know are either. If anyone has an explanation, now's the time to share."

"Then I believe it's my turn." A girl stood. She wore her dark brown hair in a side braid that nearly went to her waist and spoke with a mild French accent. She had been sitting among the largest group of girls present, with four others around her. "My name is Lucille. I am from Quebec."

Quebec. She had come from even further away than Melanie. Even though Melanie knew there were many girls who'd come from further east, few of them had made it this far. Doing so would require a lot of continuous travel and, of course, survival.

"I have an unusual talent," Lucille went on. "Perhaps not strong, but strange. I was simply testing it."

"'Testing' it?" Denise repeated with a frown. "How long have you been a magical girl? Surely you'd know how to use most of your magic."

"Ah, but I met someone very interesting," Lucille said. She motioned to a girl sitting nearby. ('Next to' was the wrong term, seeing as there was a considerable gap between them.) "She compliments my abilities very well. We teamed up to test how well."

The other girl in question rose, looking around shyly at the group. She had short, matted brown hair, just a shade lighter than Melanie's. "I'm Danielle," she said in a voice so soft that a non-magical girl would have missed it.

"Well then," said Denise, her confused expression reflecting those around her. "What can you two do?"

"I can expel things in a large area," Lucille said. "It's helpful for my comrades – helps us to fight. And she," the Canadian gestured at Danielle, "she is… What was the word you used?"

"I'm an aide," Danielle said nervously, speaking only a little bit louder. "I can, um, enhance the abilities of other magical girls. Depending on what they are... I can speed them up, or even slow them down. If I use my full power, I can make them, uh... stronger."

"So there is your mystery solved," Lucille said, grinning widely. "I had Danielle simply use her powers and increase the area of effect of my repelling powers, as well as how much I could repel."

"And voila! Sunlight." Denise smiled as well, perhaps as smug about her appropriate usage of French as she was about having an answer.

"I suppose you two won't be staying," said the girl next to Denise, eyeing Lucille and her companions.

"Correct," Lucille said. "We are a part of a Canadian recovery group, so we work from across the border. We are here scouting lone survivors. My temporary partnership with Danielle had ended the moment we entered this place. It was an interesting test, but Danielle does not wish to travel with us. As for what she will do, I cannot give you an answer." She shrugged passively, flicked a sideways glance at Danielle who did not return it, and then sat down.

Danielle sat as well, her face flushed.

Denise looked like she wanted to take the topic further, but decided better of it once both the girls were seated. "Okay, um. So I guess that's it then." She kept standing, looking very awkward as she glanced around at the gathered girls.

"What was the second thing you wanted to talk about?" someone asked impatiently.

"Oh! Right." Denise shook her head, as if to rattle her thoughts back into place. Despite her self-pronounced position and height, she seemed neither authoritative nor imposing. "The second thing I wanted to mention is that I'm actually leaving this place. I've already talked to a few of you about it. I figured we should maybe head east. Too many girls are coming over here nowadays that there's almost nothing to scavenge. Just girls and civilians to avoid and demons to kill. Sure, there's tons of destruction east, but there's also a lot of empty land. So if anyone's up for it, I'll accept any number of traveling companions. That's all."

"So the meeting's ended then?" Anita asked. She dropped her arms and pressed her palms against the wall, as if preparing to straighten, but didn't push off. "Good. I want to talk to you."

Denise bit her lip, while the girl next to her on the sofa glared furiously at Anita. Denise, however, shot the girl a hasty look and then cleared her throat. "Yes. The meeting's over, unless anyone else has anything to say."

"Well, that was wonderfully pointless," one girl said, getting to her feet and striding for the exit without a backwards glance.

Others were following suit, and soon, a majority of the girls in the room were filing out the door, some muttering amongst themselves in irritable whispers. Some others lingered behind, either talking or standing alone, glancing uncertainly towards Denise and her group.

Melanie straightened herself. The only reason she hadn't left as well was because Anita showed no sign of budging from where she stood, and because Melanie wasn't keen on getting herself into another confrontation with another suspicious girl. She supposed it was perhaps a side effect of entering an area so heavily populated with magical girls. That so many magical girls from different places and groups had attended the same meeting certainly implied a large overall population, not only in the city, but in the immediate area – which made sense, according to what Denise had said earlier. The east had been ravaged with explosions early on in the catastrophe, which had forced hundreds of magical girls to evacuate and flee in the opposite direction. That meant that now, of course, the west might be facing an overpopulation problem fast. Three huge cities lay to the east that were, by themselves probably, the source of many of the girls who were now flooding into the west, coupled with the large cities and girls already living there… The bottom line was that Melanie was going to start to see many more girls in the days to come. Earlier, when she had met Anita and the teleporter, it hadn't been unusual. It had been a sign. And an increasing population meant the likelihood of running into more aggressive or unfriendly girls rose as well.

In that sense, heading back east made a little bit of sense. There was bound to be a few valuable supplies that had survived. They could also rely on the possibility that those who had fled had come all the way west for fear of explosions continuing to slowly cross the country, which left centre of Canada and the States free for exploration and inhabitation... unless, of course, they were right and the explosions did reach as far as there. But Melanie had not heard nor received news of an explosion happening at all in the past little while, whereas during the initial month or so, explosions had been pretty frequent. That, of course, was no reason to assume that they had ended, but it could signal some sort of break in the onslaught so to speak, which would, in turn, leave some precious time for scavenging.

Still, Melanie couldn't shake the urge that told her that she should go the Bridge. Maybe it was curiosity finally getting the better of her, maybe it was a deeper calling. Anyways, she'd already made a deal with Anita to travel with her to the Bridge and, if worst came to worst and there was nothing to be found at the Bridge, she could always break it off with Anita once there and then travel back east by herself. She'd already crossed the country without the help of close allies, so surely, she could backtrack with the same success.

A few more girls had trickled out of the café by then, leaving the path to the door mostly clear. Melanie glanced over at Anita, who had moved off of the wall by that time and was stretching by kicking each of her legs out in turn. Perhaps she was also thinking about leaving.

Instead of announcing their departure, however, she gave Melanie a glance and a grin before striding towards Denise and her sidekick, instead of the door.

Apart from them, only a handful of girls remained in the café. Laura and Sara were still there, along with Danielle. Lucille and her group had gone, so Danielle was sitting alone, her chin propped on her hands as she stared into space. Besides them, the others who had stayed behind seemed to be with Denise, as they were all gathered in a general area around her.

Melanie made no move to join Anita or take a seat in one of the vacant chairs. Her eyes flicked towards Danielle. She wouldn't deny that she was a little interested in the girl's ability. It was unusual to say the least – she must have made a wish for the sake of someone else. It was the only explanation she could think of that would lead to such a strange power. It was handy in its own way, though, especially for someone whose power didn't cover a wide area.

Melanie's interest, however, didn't last for long, as it rarely did. She often observed other's abilities in an analyzing sort of way – more objective than subjective – and always in a tactical light. In battle, what could they do? It was never a matter of who they could be to her personally. That was dangerous thinking.

Or… it had been. Melanie frowned at contradiction. The sudden questioning of how she'd always seen other magical girls.

But then she dismissed it. She felt the exact same way about Anita as she did about anyone else she came across. There was nothing personal about their alliance, after all.

"Hey!"

Anita's voice called, and Melanie realized she was being waved over. She paused before she indicated that she'd heard with a nod, and took her time going over, even though a part of her was interested about what Anita and Denise were discussing. She didn't want to be seen as being eager to follow Anita's instructions.

Denise was shifting from foot to foot, looking at the floorboards, but when Melanie arrived, Anita's attention didn't seem to be on her anymore. In fact, she turned away from Denise and gave Melanie her brightest smile. "Ready to go?"

So she'd already finished talking to Denise about whatever they'd wanted to talk about. Judging from Denise's reaction, it had been an uncomfortable subject. Perhaps it had been about that "Jackie" girl Anita had mentioned earlier.

Melanie narrowed her eyes very slightly and told herself she didn't care what it had been about.

She responded to Anita's question with another nod.

"Let's get back to my place first," Anita said, starting to walk. "I've got a bunch of clothes and stuff that I salvaged from… my other home. Maybe you want a change of clothes too? Those cardboard shoes looked pretty beat up."

Melanie followed Anita, although this time, she walked a little bit closer behind. She did want a change of clothes, desperately, and Anita's regular clothing, albeit dusty and slightly smudged with dirt, looked as comfortable as clothing could be. Melanie would feel extravagantly dressed if she even got a new pair of shoes.

But wait. She had been transformed during her first meeting with Anita, and before she had knocked on her door. How did she know about…?

Before Melanie could ask how she knew about the shoes, however, a voice spoke up from nearby, directed at her.

"Hi there! You're that girl from earlier, right?" It was Laura, who was coming in their direction, beaming at Melanie. Her blue-green magical girl outfit reminded Melanie of a summer dress, the bottom part being a shade darker than the top. A pair of brown and stylish, but well-fit boots completed the simple outfit, with her Soul Gem located about halfway between the shoulder of her right arm and her elbow. "I'm glad I could help you find your friend. My name's Laura," she added, introducing herself to Anita, who had stopped by that time to appraise her with some interest.

Melanie halted as well and opened her mouth to mention that Anita wasn't exactly her friend, but then shut it again. It wasn't worth the effort.

"Well, well, well." Sara came to stand at Laura's side, wearing the same scowl she'd had when Melanie had first met her. "It's the Queen and one of her corgis. What a privilege to be in your presence."

"Is this about the president?" said Anita. "Because I can give you tons of reasons why he shouldn't be at this meeting and the Queen could maybe pass."

Melanie gave Anita a sideways glance as she spoke. While not unfriendly, her tone was a lot more sharply sarcastic than what she'd heard during their short time together so far, similar to how she'd spoken to the door greeter. Even while making remarks about what she'd observed of Melanie as they'd spoken, she had acted more teasing than anything, and any offence she might have caused would have been most likely unintentional, seeing as she acted oblivious to people's innermost feelings despite her ability. Even though they hadn't spent long in each other's company, Melanie had thought Anita's basic character was straightforward enough, and that she had a fairly solid grasp of who she was. But, like when Anita had first offered an alliance, she was starting to see a little deeper – another side of her. Perhaps her previous behaviour was all just an act? Or perhaps _this_ was the act?

But if this was what Anita was really like, why was Melanie so special? What did she even _want_ from her?

"Let's not," Laura was saying meanwhile. She took hold of Sara's arm, staring between her and Anita imploringly. "We can all afford to be respectful, right?"

Sara opened her mouth and paused for a few moments, as if waiting for herself to begin speaking. But then she shut it again and stayed like that for a few moments.

Finally, she seemed to relent to what Laura was saying. "Okay, fine. And you," she added, narrowing her eyes at Anita. "You'd better listen to her. When she tries to give a lecture, she means business. Maybe _you_ could afford to listen to someone else."

At the comment about her, Laura lowered her head, her face flushing slightly. Her bravado from before seemed to shrink a little, giving Melanie the impression that she was perhaps not used to speaking her mind so openly.

Anita rolled her eyes. "I listen to people who are worth listening to. Lucky for you, your friend's one of them."

"Wait, wait," said Laura, perking up again and holding up a hand while shooting a look at Sara. She still hadn't let go of her arm. "Have you two met each other before?"

"Once or twice, yeah," Sara said, keeping her eyes fixed on Anita. "Both times, she smart-talked my ears off. Practically had to send an S.O.S signal to get out of there with them still intact."

Laura frowned. "You never told me that."

"Wait, wait," Anita cut in, mimicking Laura's tone. She glanced interestedly between her and Melanie. "Have _you_ two met each other before? Actually, don't answer that. It's pretty obvious that you have."

Melanie avoided looking at both Laura and Anita. Laura, because she didn't want to seem too familiar with her. And Anita because of what she'd observed earlier. She wasn't quite sure what she thought about it, although a part of her was a little bit hopeful that it was all nothing.

"I showed her how to get to your house," Laura said, obviously not thrown off. "Anyways, it's very nice to meet you in person, Anita."

Sara took a deep breath, and then forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, it's nice to meet you guys," she said after a moment.

"It is," Anita said with a nod, as if she was casually agreeing with something other than it being nice to meet herself.

Laura's smile didn't slip and neither did, surprisingly, Sara's. "I didn't get your name earlier," Laura said, turning the conversation to Melanie. "Well, you never told me because I didn't ask. Do you mind if I ask now?"

"Melanie," Melanie said. It wasn't like it was a big deal to give out your name nowadays. They couldn't use it to stalk her or anything. The absurdity of the thought in her situation nearly made her smirk, but she stopped herself. She should be used to it by now. Instead, she mused over the fact that that was likely the only thing anyone would get out of her in any sort of conversation. Her name, and little else.

Except for Anita. That drew a frown out of her.

Sara's eyes were boring into her, making Melanie's skin prickle. She remembered her warning about Anita earlier, but although she'd admitted to meeting Anita before (and had described her pretty accurately too), it didn't bother Melanie. Not coming from someone like Sara anyways, who she decided was definitely a difficult person, in more ways than one.

"You'll have to excuse us," Anita said suddenly. (Melanie hadn't realized that there had been an extended silence after she'd said her name, possibly because silences rarely felt awkward to her.) "We're in a hurry, sort of."

"To get where?" Sara asked. She sounded skeptical.

Anita smirked. "Looks like you're a little bit behind. There's some exciting stuff happening down south, all to do with some bridge."

Melanie turned her head to regard Anita. She hadn't been exactly keen on letting Anita in on what she'd learned (which had added to her annoyance about Anita finding out about it herself), let alone just outright telling others about it. Even if some sort of message or rumour was being passed around, the whole thing still somehow felt like private business between just the two of them. It was part of their agreement, after all, so of course, it only concerned them. If others were going the Bridge, that was all well and good, but no one had to know they were also going, let alone that they were going together.

"Bridge?" Laura repeated hesitantly.

Melanie could guess at what she was thinking. There was only one bridge really worth mentioning down south, after all. The reason for her unsureness must have been out of confusion, much like Melanie's first reaction after being told the Solen Bridge still existed even after the catastrophe. How could it, after all? It was only a Bridge, and even the fact that it was the largest Bridge in existence and one of humanity's greatest triumphs in terms of unification was inconsequential in the face of the world's ending.

Of course, Anita didn't have to guess about Laura's thoughts. She nodded. "Yep. You're right. It is the Solen Bridge."

Laura recoiled, her eyes widening. She slapped a hand over her mouth in shock, but then thought better of it and raised it to her temple instead, staring at Anita. And was it just Melanie, or did she tighten her grip on Sara's arm?

Anita raised her hands. "Calm down, it's okay. That's the only time I've read your mind since we met."

Melanie frowned. Anita really was an open person if she was just going to admit her powers so freely in front of others. If someone possessed such a secretive ability that could be used without alerting others, they usually kept it to themselves so they could take advantage of the… well, secrecy. But something told Melanie that Anita had no sense of strategy – at least in the way she was thinking. She wasn't a deceptive person who would think about hiding her power. Among many of the reasons she could have for being so forthright, she was either proud of it or she didn't realize the reaction people would have when they found out she'd used it on them.

With someone like Anita, the latter was just as likely as the former.

Laura had relaxed, but only slightly. "A-a mindreader," she mumbled.

Sara was scowling at Anita, but strangely, she hadn't moved like Melanie had expected her to. She hadn't leapt in front of Laura defensively or struck out at Anita. Perhaps she had more self-control than Melanie had assumed based on their first meeting. Or maybe Laura's grip on her arm was so tight that she couldn't move.

"I'm sorry," Laura said after a few seconds went by with no one furthering the conversation. "I just wasn't expecting… Um, if you wouldn't mind–"

"No, I know," Anita said, sighing almost disappointedly. "I won't do it again."

The way she said it made Melanie suspect that she was used to repeating that line. She'd heard it herself.

"Okay." Laura's polite smile didn't return, however. "So you two are going to the Solen Bridge?"

"Why?" Sara finally cut in. "That sounds like a shitty place to go. Nothing but high-tech ruins and open, debris-filled water."

"I would agree with you, but my silent companion is convinced there's something worth checking out there," said Anita. "So off to the Bridge we go."

"The… Bridge? You're going to the Bridge?" A quiet voice said, and when Melanie glanced over to her left, she realized Danielle was standing there. She hadn't even noticed her.

"That's what I said," Anita confirmed.

"Oh." Danielle's face was bright red. "Sorry. It's just that I heard about it too. There's been lots of, um… rumours flying around. Even talk of a conspiracy."

"A conspiracy?" Anita and Sara said at the same time. Sara glared at Anita, while Anita raised an eyebrow in Melanie's direction.

"What have you heard?" she asked.

"Nothing about a conspiracy," Melanie said tonelessly, raising her shoulders in what could pass for a shrug. She ticked it off as the second time she'd spoken in the conversation, and even then, it was simply a clarification. Nothing more.

"What _did_ you hear then?" Anita pressed patiently.

Melanie's eyes narrowed, although it may or may not have been noticeable to the girls standing around her. She was already breaking the pattern of living she'd settled into before by allying with Anita. She wasn't about to go along with what Anita was saying by spurting information to girls she didn't know. That was breaking more than a few of her own standards – standards that she wasn't about to let Anita meddle with. The others could talk as much as they liked and deal with the consequences, but she wasn't about to take that risk. Not for Anita, not for anyone.

So far, she had a sinking feeling about where this alliance was going.

"Um." Danielle coughed, clearing her throat, although she didn't begin to speak any louder. "I don't mean to interrupt–" (She'd neither been interrupting nor about to interrupt.) "–but I've been hearing a few rumours. Like, about girls. There's some at the Bridge who have their own society or something like that. I'm not sure how much of it is true."

"A magical girl society?" Sara said disbelievingly, her lip curling. "That sounds like disaster in the making for sure."

It was exactly what Melanie had thought, but she wasn't about to say so.

"It's true that it sounds a little bit improbable," Laura agreed. "But I think it would be interesting. In the type of world we live in, we all need to rely on each other a little. We should at least try to get along."

Sara snorted, and pulled her arm from Laura's grasp without meeting protest. "Oh, don't let this setting fool you. Some people say the apocalypse brings out the best in people, but I think it only ups the 'screw-the-man' ideal that every magical girl lives by. If we go near any big groups of girls, you can be sure they've got their own agenda. And they're gonna be watching their own asses, damn the rest of us." She briefly paused before continuing. "If it is a conspiracy, you can bet it's a conspiracy to try and hoard cubes or something." She looked around at her teal-clad companion. "You know that's already started, Laura."

Laura bit her lip, looking unsure, while next to Melanie, Anita remained uncharacteristically silent.

Laura spoke at length. "I didn't know you felt that way about it, Sara. But you're right, I guess. We don't really work well in groups. I was just interested in that because I've never heard of something like that happening. Wouldn't it be at least worth it to _see_ a bunch of magical girls together?"

"I've seen it before," Sara said darkly. "And I'm not keen on seeing it again."

At that, Laura seemed at a loss for words.

It was, surprisingly, Danielle who once again broke the silence. "I'm sorry, but… who's going to the Bridge?"

That seemed to shake Anita out of her reflective state. "We are," she said almost instantly, motioning to herself and Melanie. "Conspiracy or no conspiracy, I'm sort of under contract here. And the journey's too difficult to go it alone."

Melanie didn't like where the conversation was going.

"Oh." Danielle's face seemed to turn redder with that knowledge. Or perhaps it was something else.

"I can't believe _you're_ going to the Bridge," Sara said, waving at Anita.

"Why?" Anita asked evenly. "There're lots of other magical girls there, right? And I like being around people. It seems like a good place for me."

"Really? I heard you were a loner. No friends, no allies, and not the best disposition to be among them either." There was a clear bite in Sara's words.

Anita took a moment before answering, her eyes narrowing in thought. "I see. Well, you shouldn't listen to rumours."

"She's right," Laura said, taking hold of Sara's arm again. "Anyways, I think I've heard all I needed to hear. I'm ready for an adventure. At the very least, I've got to get out of this place. There's nothing here anymore that I really want to protect or guard, even. Why don't we all go the Bridge together?"

Those were the words Melanie had been dreading. Someone had really said them. They were out there, hovering in the open, ready to be accepted or rejected. The short silence that followed it was almost mocking – laughing at her. The preposition was like a curveball, only aimed to veer straight towards her blind spot – her weak spot. It wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming – hadn't seen it being thrown into motion. But it wasn't like she could stop it either without violating her whole way of living. It was like the universe had begun conspiring against her the moment she met Anita.

That was probably it.

"I-I would like that," Danielle said, smiling shyly at Laura, probably glad there was at least one other person who was thinking the same thing she was.

Sara's lip was curling. "Do we really have to travel _together_? You know more magical girls attract more demons, right?"

"But we're stronger when we work together," Laura countered. "And we're all going to the same place, so why not go as a group?"

"Who said _we're_ going?" Sara complained. "You decided that all by yourself."

Anita was looking off the side when she spoke. "Normally, I'd say the more the merrier–"

Melanie nearly leaned forward in interest.

"–but I'm thinking your friend won't really make this merry for me." She looked up, smirking at Sara. "So this will be more like 'the more the fussier', with her being the 'more' part."

Melanie sagged. Of course Anita wouldn't reject such an offer. And Sara seemed too loyal to Laura to try to contradict her for long. She was alone, wanting the one thing no one else did, and the one thing she could never achieve while they were present. Solitude.

Maybe she should have been clearer on the agreement? She had meant for the alliance to only include her and Anita. She'd never suspected something like this to happen, and now suddenly, there were three more members of the party? Perhaps Anita had been planning this all along by leading her along on the mission to solve the sunlight mystery. That had been resolved within minutes, and here she was facing another problem. A much, much bigger problem.

"See, this is why I don't want to team up with her," Sara grumbled, crossing her arms. She still wasn't entirely convinced, but that probably wouldn't last.

"You need a change," Laura said. "It's bad lingering in the same place, holding onto memories and stuff that just doesn't apply to us anymore. We'll fall into despair here without ever having tried to save ourselves."

"Yeah, you would say that, since you're the sentimental one." Sara exhaled sharply. "But I suppose if this is what you really want to do – if this is how you really want to die – I'm gonna have to come with you whether I want to or not. This is just one dump of many."

There. Loyalty was a downfall every time.

"Right," said Laura, nodding and smiling at her friend. "I'm glad, Sara."

"Just keep your thoughts in your head, and we'll get along fine," Anita said. "They actually make a lot more sense there."

"Fine. Likewise to you," Sara shot back.

"So we really are a group?" Danielle said. Currently untransformed, she began fiddling with her ring, looking around at them. "Just like that?"

 _No,_ Melanie thought.

"Yeah," Anita confirmed, nodding. She clearly wasn't privy to Melanie's thoughts at that time – not that it was a bad thing – but if there was any time Melanie would have chosen to have her break her promise, it would have been then. "Or do we need to make some sort of official statement?"

"No, that's alright," Danielle replied without meeting Anita's eyes.

"So, it's off to the Solen Bridge we go, then?" Sara said, sounding anything but enthusiastic, then added sarcastically, "Let's make a group slogan or something; that'll make us sound official."

"I don't mean to sound rude, but the Solen Bridge is the last place anyone should go," said another voice from outside the circle, and moments later, Denise appeared at the head of her own group. While the conversation had been going, they had been talking themselves near the fireplace. They now appeared to be ready to head off themselves, with some of the girls slinging ragged bags or makeshift sacks over their shoulders and straightening out their clothes.

"What do you know about the Solen Bridge?" Laura asked, sounding not defensive but genuinely curious.

"I know it's a hellhole," Denise replied. "Back when this all started, we got a few girls who came up and spread all these rumours about jolly good times at the Bridge. Guess they still haven't let up on that. Anyways, I went to check it out with a couple of others, and, well… It's crazy down there, and in the worst possible way. Magical girls from every part of the world you can name, most of whom were stranded there after this all started. No one can communicate with anyone else; those who can don't waste their efforts. The strong are plucked from their groups and recruited to serve the superiors, and anyone who's weak is forgotten about or tossed out like trash. The higher ups may seem nice and caring – like they're out to save the world and protect everyone – but you can bet they don't give a damn about anyone. It's ordered chaos, some say. When someone gets control of the situation, things there'll calm down and maybe it'll be _peaceful_. Maybe everyone can _cooperate_. But me, I didn't like what I saw. And I wouldn't go back."

"Well, that was a while ago, right?" Anita said. She wasn't even paying full attention to Denise or looking at her, but was fumbling with the hem of her sweater as per her now recognizable habit. There was no sign of awkwardness in her stance, though, so she knew full well what she was doing – or wasn't doing. "Who knows – maybe things have quieted down. Anyways, Denise, you're a person of first impressions. There's not a whole lot you can say about the Bridge by just giving it one glance."

"You'd be surprised," Denise said darkly, her eyebrows knitting together at Anita's comment. "If you go there, that's your choice and I won't say 'I told you so' if I see you running away. Good luck with whatever you find down there."

"Thank you," Laura said, although she was biting the corner of her lip while she spoke.

Denise nodded briefly to her before fixing her gaze on Anita, her expression cool. "I have nothing more to say to you." Then she waved to the girls behind her and strode past the five of them.

One by one, her followers filed out of the café, with her shorter companion leaving last. Before she went, she gave one last look back, and her smouldering glare fell upon first Anita and then Melanie before she too disappeared.

Melanie hardly noticed. She was feeling a tingling in her fingertips – such a strange sensation. Something felt like it was pressing down on her jaw, as if urging her to speak up – to speak against what had just been agreed upon or perhaps agree with Denise. She thought again about what she was doing. It really had been stupid to think she could have an alliance with someone like Anita. It had been even more stupid of her to want to believe that the Bridge held any sort of chance for her. Any magical girl association would be flawed, of course. Institutions created by adults were faulty, so such things run by teenage girls would be inevitably fall apart even quicker. She was foolish. Foolish for clinging to something that no longer existed in the world she lived in: hope.

And yet that was all she saw in the faces of the four girls around her.

That was it. The moment they arrived back at Anita's house to pick up supplies for the journey, she would approach the auburn-haired girl and break off the alliance. It was as simple as that. Then she could continue on wherever she chose to go without having to commit to anyone or anything, and without having to see the girls' hope shatter… as it would eventually.

"We'd better get going too," Laura said eventually, after about thirty seconds of silence ticked by. "How about we all meet at the nearest gas station? It's not far from here. We'll gather there in, uh…" She paused, probably well aware that there was no way to keep track of time. "Soon."

"Sounds good," Anita said. "We'll be there."

"We" meaning her and Melanie. Melanie squared her shoulders, already rehearsing what she would say in her mind, and eliminating all the useless words and comments.

"See you soon, then." Laura gave her one last smile and then turned to Melanie. "I'll see you too, yeah? Don't be afraid to offer your opinion." Then she gave a short wave, took Sara's arm, and led her towards the door.

Danielle stood unmoving, hugging herself with her arms, more for comfort than out of tension. Her eyes were fixed on the floorboards, but her brows were deeply narrowed in thought. Melanie decided that of the four of the others, she was the one she minded the least. She hardly spoke and she was easy to read. Not to mention her power…

But she had decided to travel to the Bridge as well, and so Melanie would have to leave her behind. Like she would have anyways.

"So we five strangers are a happy group and now we find out we banded together to go visit some dump?" Sara said, her voice echoing over the café. "Remind me why anyone thinks this is a good idea?"

"No, this makes it more of a good idea," Anita said, which drew everyone's eyes to her.

Laura halted and looked back at Anita. "Sara is making a point. What that girl said…" Laura looked over her shoulder at where Denise's group had vanished. "I'll admit, it's made me curious, but it's also like it made this journey feel so much more dangerous than what it was anyways."

"Nahh," Anita said, still good-spirited. She grinned (a sign that was now a harbinger of bad things to come, Melanie had decided), and crossed her arms. "Well, yeah, it'll be dangerous, there's no doubt about that. But you're still going. I still going. So I'd say it just got that much more interesting."

As Laura and Sara exited the café and Anita's attention inevitably returned to her, Melanie turned her head to hide her frown. Anita just had to wait a little longer and it would get interesting alright…

She would no longer have one of her followers. And Melanie would no longer have someone to follow.

* * *

Kaneko sat still and tall, her hands folded in her lap, and her eyes staring straight ahead as she kept watch diligently. Beside her, Jiro was asleep on the small mattress she had scavenged for him, amid a heap of tattered stuffed animals and torn remains of pillows. He had not slept easily in weeks, so it put her mind faintly at rest to see the peaceful expression on his face now. She had searched tirelessly to find a place far away from the centre of the city and the demons, where the battle cries and tortured screams of the dying were almost inaudible. An abandoned and half-collapsed warehouse was the best place she could find, and by the time she'd set up Jiro's makeshift bed, he was already asleep. She didn't dare leave to hunt, for fear that he would wake up to find himself alone, so she sat nearby, her gaze flicking between the entrance and her brother.

At some point in her watch, it began to rain, and the steady drum of it on the roof gave her something to focus on. She remembered when it used to rain, back when the world was undamaged and everything was normal. Her favourite part about it was that it gave her an excuse to stay inside and curl up in warm clothes and fuzzy blankets, perhaps with a mug of tea folded in her hands. Jiro was always afraid that the roof would start leaking and then cave in, and he would come into her room and snuggle under the covers with her to take shelter. She remembered all the stories she would tell him to keep his mind off of his worries. His favourite one was always about the angel who was just passing overhead with her watering can to liven up all the greenery, and when she was finished, everything would be fresh and new…

But now, it was raining and Jiro was sleeping right through it with the knowledge that angels did not exist in this world. And when the rain stopped, everything would remain the same: broken beyond repair.

Kaneko caught the tear hanging on her eyelash on the back of her hand before it fell, and shook her head vigorously, her face twisting into an angry scowl. Dwelling on the way things used to be was pointless and stupid. All that mattered now was keeping Jiro and herself alive. If she accomplished nothing else before her inevitable demise, she would keep him safe. Somehow.

A faint sound suddenly caught her attention apart from the rain, and she froze, straining to hear. A small burst of adrenaline helped to chase away the few straggling thoughts, and now her body was automatically tensing, preparing for anything. As she tilted her head, listening, she heard it again. There was another rhythm tapping itself out apart from the constant thrum of raindrops on the roof, and it was slowly growing louder.

Footsteps.

Someone else was in the warehouse.

Kaneko sat as still as a statue, praying that Jiro wouldn't decide to grunt in his sleep. There was a chance that whoever it was hadn't seen them yet. Her mind raced with possibilities of what she could do. It was too early to transform – she might invoke a premature fight. Then again, what if the intruder wasn't a magical girl or else not dangerous? Perhaps they too were looking to seek refuge someplace quiet. Maybe this had originally been their hideout and _she_ was the intruder. It was best not to act before she was sure.

She tilted her head very carefully. The footsteps had given way to silence. But their absence was too sudden. The person hadn't gone away, they had stopped. Kaneko sat, holding her breath, her right hand trailing towards her left – her ring hand.

A shadow moved from a good distance front of her, but it was enough to alert Kaneko's attention and she stood, tensing and readying herself for whoever would reveal themselves. Only one thought flitted across her mind, raising a red flag: _It's another magical girl_.

That's when the figurative storm broke.

A girl suddenly lunged from behind one of the pillars of the building and towards the next, her body shimmering for an instant as she transformed. When it faded, Kaneko saw she was wielding a dangerous-looking broadsword. She was incredibly fast, so Kaneko couldn't get a good look at her before she vanished behind another of the pillars.

Kaneko didn't stop to think. She raised her hand and didn't wait for the transformation to finish before leaping forward, putting herself between the other girl and Jiro (who was surprisingly still fast asleep). Her whole body was pulsing with adrenaline, ready to act on a moment's notice. When she looked up, the other girl was still nowhere to be seen, but Kaneko could feel her presence nearby.

"Who are you?" she shouted to the darkness.

In reply, a jet of maroon light flashed from the girl's position, narrowly missing Kaneko. A warning shot? She couldn't tell, and didn't take the time to think about it.

"I don't want to fight," she called out, her heart beating frantically in her chest. She swallowed and continued, "I'm asking you to come out and show me who you are. I promise I won't attack you if you do that."

There was no answer. Behind her, Jiro began to stir and groan in his sleep. She had to deal with this quickly. She hoped desperately that the girl would decide to be cooperative and follow her instructions. Fighting another magical girl was the last thing she wanted.

She heard a loud grating noise, and had a split second to throw herself out of the way to avoid being struck by a large wooden crate. It flew past behind her, just missing Jiro, and Kaneko cursed. Her first instinct had been to save herself, and she had left her brother wide open to attack. She scrambled to her feet and positioned herself directly in front of Jiro again before raising her arm, pointing it in the direction the crate had come from.

"I'm warning you for the last time," she said loudly, trying to put as much bravado as she could into her voice. "Please show yourself and stop fighting!"

This time, the person didn't even wait for the silence to settle before attacking. Chains rattled and scraping sounds filled the warehouse as she hurled crate after crate towards Kaneko, who barely managed to disintegrate each one with beams of her own magic before they came dangerously close, showering herself with small bits of shrapnel. The occasional piece of hardware was also thrown in her direction, forcing her to redirect them rather than destroy them. Whoever the other girl was, she had powerful telekinetic abilities, and probably had more of advantage while remaining hidden at a distance. The only way Kaneko could handle the situation was by forcing her out, and if she kept using her basic magic attacks, she was going to run out of power before she could use her wish magic.

The only thing she thought was strange was that the other girl was only throwing one thing at her at a time. The objects were moving at a fast speed, but there weren't enough to overwhelm her. Either the attacker wasn't experienced at using her powers or...

She heard a low cry of surprise from Jiro as he woke, and she gritted her teeth. She needed to end this. Now.

There was a break in the onslaught of crates, and she took the chance instantly. She raised her arm and clenched her other hand as she focused in on the girl. She felt her magic flow through her, familiar and almost eager to be unleashed. Just as she was preparing to release it, she once again detected the presence of the other girl, although stronger before, and she realized that she recognized it. But it was too late to cancel out her magic, and her surprise didn't help. In a heartbeat, it streamed from her and wrapped itself around the girl's position, and she heard loud swearing from a voice she knew well. Still, she didn't feel relieved. Instead, a sort of outrage coursed through her, paired with a creeping dread.

She turned briefly towards Jiro and saw him sitting up, staring at her and the broken crates around them in bleary surprise. She put a finger to her lips, trying to look as reassuring as possible, and then strode forwards purposefully.

As she neared the pillar, she could see her magic glowing around the girl and saw her huddled behind a pillar, her head in her arms. Kaneko's eyes narrowed at the sight. Yes, she was definitely familiar.

The girl squeaked in surprise as Kaneko pulled her to her feet by the arm and shoved her against the pillar, firmly gripping her collar. The last of her magic faded around them, and the fright melted from the girl's face as she pressed her lips together and stared back at Kaneko, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of defiance and caution.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kaneko growled.

The other girl blanched at Kaneko's tone and fidgeted, tugging uselessly at Kaneko's wrist. "C'mon, Kaneko-san, don't be mad," she said apologetically. "I wasn't going to hurt you or anything. I was just curious, that's all. Looks like you're not rusty at all."

"Surprising," Kaneko commented wryly, her tone flat. Still, her anger was slowly receding and she loosened her grip on the other girl, taking a slow step back. Nonetheless, she kept her gaze fixed on her and her stance remained defensive.

The other girl straightened, cleared her throat, and smoothed out her ruffled maroon jacket before bowing to Kaneko. "Please accept my apologies. It really is nice to see you again, Kaneko-san," she said politely, her voice still a little halting.

Kaneko studied her carefully. Something was wrong. She waited for a long moment before sighing heavily and bowing back. Whatever it was, the other girl wouldn't keep her waiting for long. "You too, Noriko-san," she said coolly, then walked straight past the girl and back towards Jiro without further acknowledging her.

"I came here for a reason, you know," Noriko said, following her. So it began. "I know how much of an understatement this is, but things are pretty desperate right now. A lot of the strongest are falling into despair. A few have gotten stronger, like you and me, but well… you know how things are. I can never be sure exactly who's still on the sane side, and who may have crossed over. That's why I had to test you. There's no point in reinstating you if there's no humanity left."

Kaneko knelt by Jiro. He had fallen asleep again miraculously. He must have been exhausted. At Noriko's words, she raised her head, but kept her gaze on her brother. "'Reinstating'?"

Noriko had finally come out and said whatever Kaneko had been expecting her to, but the words didn't quite suit her. They sounded strange, more so than the product of a few months of fighting a hopeless war. They sounded like they had been put into her mouth by… someone else.

Ah. So that was it.

"Yes," Noriko confirmed. "Many of us are dying everyday, as you know. The smartest course of action has got to be sticking together to the last. And to do that, we need strong girls at our core. Girls like you."

"I see. So that's why you're here," Kaneko said, her brow furrowing. Noriko was confirming her suspicions the more she said. Her interest at seeing her friend again was beginning to fade. "You're still running errands for them."

"Of course," said Noriko, crossing her arms. "I can't afford to take off, like you did. I'm not exactly at the top of the food chain." Kaneko turned in time to see her raise an eyebrow while nodding at Jiro. "And I don't have anything holding me back."

Kaneko stood and faced Noriko. She feigned straightening out her silvery cloak, but really spread it to block Noriko's view of Jiro. She disliked the way she was looking at him like he was some sort of object… or obstacle. Kaneko's gaze seemed to be hard enough to draw Noriko's eyes back to hers as she spoke coolly – a single statement of confirmation. "You want me to come back."

" _They_ want you to come back," said Noriko. She met Kaneko's glare head on. Of all the girls Kaneko had met, she was always the one who would turn and fight back instead of just standing and taking the heat. The only difference between then and now was that Kaneko had been at her side, fighting with her. Now they were opponents, staring each other down over an empty expanse between them that was slowly widening. "I'm just the messenger."

"That sounds ridiculous," Kaneko said, giving the slightest shake of her head. "Why would _they_ want me to come back? What do they even need me for now?"

"Well, to start off with, you're still indebted to them," Noriko replied in a neutral tone.

"' _Still_ '," Kaneko repeated with a frown. Those words were definitely not Noriko's own. "It sounds to me like I'm just 'indebted' to them whenever it's convenient. The rest of the time, it's fine for me to be wherever I want to be, but now that they're in trouble, it's a debt."

"Don't badmouth them. I'm just pointing out the facts," said Noriko. "But they do _need_ you. This is sort of like an appeal."

Kaneko clenched her fists, just enough to be noticeable. "Do you really think I'm going to come back so easily and play their game? I don't want that anymore, Noriko-san."

Noriko's eyes narrowed. "'Game'?" she repeated. "May I remind you that they're the ones who taught you everything you know? You would be nothing without them. You _are_ nothing right now; all you're doing is trying to keep yourself alive and scrape by. There's no merit in that. There's no _worth_ in that. I know you have some honour left in you, Kaneko-san. Even if you don't feel you owe them your allegiance anymore, I know a part of you must feel obligated to repay them. You _do_ owe them that."

"I don't owe them anything," Kaneko snapped suddenly, her expression dark. Her reserve was cracking – how dare they send Noriko. "Since when have they done anything to help since this all started? They sat back – put locks onto their resources that could have saved lives–"

"Listen to yourself," Noriko said sharply, her calm breaking for a second. Now she was playing her own cards, not the set that had been forced into her hand by her superiors. "The cold hard fact is that they saved your goddamn life, so who cares how they decide to preserve theirs? You're not in a place to insult them, and you _definitely_ don't understand why they do the things they do. Is that why you're here?" She spread her arms, gesturing at the wide space around them. "You don't agree with them, but you don't dare stand up to them, so instead, you're running away. Is that it? Have you been in hiding this whole time?"

"I'm not hiding," Kaneko snapped. "But I did leave because I don't agree with them, and I'm not going back. There's nothing they can offer me to convince me to return, and I'm sure they can find someone else like me easily enough."

Noriko laughed shortly. "Trust me, it's not that easy. There aren't many people as stubborn about… everything as you. But I digress for now. I didn't come here to argue with you about them. I owe them _my_ life, and I intend to repay them for it. I was just trying to help them out a little. It's my job." She breathed out heavily, and then fell silent.

Kaneko did as well, feeling the blood rushing to her head as the fight drained out of her, and she lowered her head to stare at the floor. Arguing was really the last thing she wanted, after seeing Noriko for the first time in weeks. But she couldn't do what Noriko was asking – no, what _they_ were asking. She was no longer surviving for the sake of herself and other magical girls. She hated knowing that she was indebted, though, especially to those who would never let her forget it. Once again, they were demonstrating the control they had on her life. They could have Noriko turn against her – use her unfaltering loyalty to throw Kaneko off balance. They could even use her own _life_ against her.

It reminded Kaneko of why she hated them so much – why she'd run away in the first place.

"So why are you here, all by yourself?" Noriko said at last, drawing Kaneko's gaze to her again. She looked somewhat tired from the way her limbs were sagging, as if the argument had worn her out as well. And perhaps this was her last attempt to bridge the gap that had been rent between them so suddenly upon the realization of their immediate difference of situation. "I didn't think you were much of a loner, to be honest. Independent, but not a loner."

Kaneko turned away, back towards Jiro, and gazed at him, her lips wavering from a neutral expression to a frown. The more she looked at Noriko, the more she remembered the way things had been before... and how they would never be the same after this. But she couldn't afford to reminisce. "I've changed," she offered redundantly. "And I'm not here by myself."

"Yeah, that's true, I guess," Noriko said. "But a warehouse is a pretty weird choice for a hideout. It took me a while to find you here, you know. I didn't think you'd stow yourself away someplace so creepy."

"I had to make sure no one would approach," Kaneko said, giving a slight shrug.

"Well, turns out creepy warehouses only scare away civilians," Noriko said, a hint of tentative amusement entering her voice. But then she cleared her throat and it was gone, and Kaneko wondered if it had even been there at all. "You should know by now that we magical girls are used to targeting the most secluded places. It makes for good hunting, you know? Well… _made_. You think the kid minds?"

Kaneko's eyes snapped back up as she turned her head. The way Noriko had described finding her… like a hunter targeting their prey…

"'The kid' is my brother," Kaneko said shortly. Nothing else made it past her throat.

"Well, I guessed," Noriko said.

Their conversation faded. Kaneko's temple tingled with an oncoming headache, but she refrained from reaching up to clasp it, knowing it would do no good. Just as trying to talk to Noriko – _really_ talk to her – would no longer do either of them any good. Between her sudden departure weeks ago and their confrontation a few minutes ago, she knew there was too big of a wound to heal with just a few words. She was an outcast – estranged from those she had once accepted as her family and friends. She had chosen to fight alone, Noriko with others. If either caved to the other, they would be betraying themselves.

"You were always amazing," Noriko said at last, and Kaneko's eyes widened in surprise as she turned to face her. What was this? "Even when we were rookies, you always had such a great handle on everything. You're one of the most powerful girls I know, even now. And I've been promoted a few times since the catastrophe, since, well… our numbers are depleting rapidly. I've seen more girls fade in a week than I ever thought I'd see in my life. Girls who had everything going for them, but just gave up."

"And?" Kaneko pressed curtly. No reminiscing, not now.

"And I'd just hate to see that happen to you," Noriko said, as if it was obvious. "That's all. You can do so much more–"

Kaneko sensed another convincing attempt on Noriko's part and quickly tried to intervene. "Noriko–"

"–and you're wasting it on one person," Noriko cut her off insistently. "Think about what you could do, if you really applied yourself. You could save hundreds of more girls."

"Save," Kaneko muttered darkly. Her fists were clenching again. "Saving doesn't mean anything anymore. What are we saving them from? Where will they go afterwards?"

"Aren't you trying to save your brother, though?" There was an edge to Noriko's voice.

Kaneko breathed out. "That's different."

Noriko tilted her head. Her eyes glinted eerily in the dim light of the warehouse. "In what way?"

"He's not another nameless face. He's all I have left."

That's not true." Noriko's pressed her lips together in a firm line and breathed out through her nose before continuing. "If you could just listen to yourself, you'd realize how ridiculous you sound."

"I'll correct myself then," Kaneko said. She met Noriko's eyes. "He's all I have left _from before_. He's my family. And he's not a magical girl, doomed to fade or fight a stupid, hopeless battle. He's been pushed into our world with no way out, but he's innocent about what that means. He's _innocent_. That's why I've got to protect him."

"Oh, for goodness sakes!" Noriko threw her hands up in exasperation. "What was the _first_ thing we were taught as rookies?"

"I don't give a damn," Kaneko snapped, her anger boiling again.

"Even if you don't, you should _at least_ care about _staying alive_!" Noriko rose to meet her as usual. She was always the only person who never backed down. "And this is the surest, fastest, and goddamned _dumbest_ way to die!"

"And you're saying that if I go back with you, _they'll_ fix everything and make it right again?" Kaneko sneered. "That they somehow have some _divine_ answer to all my problems! Well, you can tell them–"

"Kaneko-san–"

"You can tell them that I send my most _sincerest_ condolences for their… losses. But the last thing that they can ever expect is to see me running back to them."

It was an argument again, and Kaneko's temple was afflicted with a pulse that was pounding out a steady beat, one she was now only faintly aware of beyond her frustration and anger. She'd always known that she and Noriko stood on different or altogether opposite sides when it came to most moral crises or, more specifically, situations that involved saving someone else or yourself. But they'd always gone unacknowledged – Noriko allowing Kaneko to go her own way, and Kaneko doing the same for her. On the sidelines of these issues, they could scramble to find similarities between themselves and try to shrug off their differences because they were a suitable pair. Maybe that had been the wrong thing to do. It was certainly doing Kaneko no favours now. And it didn't help that the Noriko she was speaking to now was different from the one she'd known before. There was a sharper edge to her – she was _dangerous_.

"Onee-chan?"

The voice came from behind Kaneko, dim with sleep, and her anger crashed to a low as she turned towards the heap of pillows. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Noriko rolling her eyes and heard her snort. But she was no longer focused on her. Now she was only irritated that they had woken Jiro with their yelling.

"Hey," she said, crouching by the mattress. "Sorry about the noise."

Jiro rubbed his eyes. They were red and raw, constantly irritated by the dust and now, sleep. "What's going on?" he asked without lowering his arm. "Who's that girl?"

"She's…" Kaneko hesitated.

"…A friend," Noriko finished for her.

Kaneko's head whipped around and she saw Noriko smiling at Jiro. The smile might seem genuine to a bystander or a stranger, but Kaneko knew her well enough to know that she never smiled like that. That smile she saved for winning people over when she wanted her way. The smile Kaneko had only once seen her use when they'd been playing hide-and-seek magical girl-style and had wanted to get past the kitchen guard to hide in the pantry. What was she playing at now?

"I'm a friend of your onee-chan," Noriko continued in a friendly way. "We've been discussing your situation, but it got a little out of hand because she's had so much pressure on her to keep you safe. Things have been rough, haven't they?"

Kaneko opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Her eyes darted angrily to Noriko and back to her brother, as if she could convey her thoughts with the quick smouldering look in her direction. But if course, nowadays there was no way to communicate telepathically anymore, so she could just crouch there helplessly. How could she tell Jiro? How could she warn him without causing conflict?

(And there was still a part of her, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that was desperately clinging to the idea that this was Noriko's attempt to amend what had just happened. To save a part of their friendship.)

Jiro blinked at Noriko, still confused. Then he tugged at Kaneko's shirt and Kaneko felt some relief. Perhaps he wasn't convinced. "Who is she, onee-chan?"

"She's called Noriko," Kaneko said, not bothering to add her last name as was traditional. She hoped Jiro would get some sort of message from that. "She's a sort-of friend. More of an old friend, really." She looked up and met Noriko's eyes. The other girl looked back at her unflinchingly, and Kaneko's eyes narrowed. She was definitely planning something.

"Are you a magical girl too?" Jiro asked Noriko curiously.

"Yes." Noriko replied before Kaneko could. Her voice was as smooth as the polished side of a dagger, ready to turn at any instant and expose its razor sharp edge. "Has your onee-chan ever told you about me?"

"No," Jiro said, tilting his head.

"Wow, and I've heard she's quite the storyteller," said Noriko, sounding almost genuinely surprised, her tone matching how one might sound like when they're speaking to a young child.

Kaneko suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, the desire instead replaced and forgotten about as she felt bile rising in her throat from the way Noriko was staring at Jiro. She tried to meet Jiro's eyes, but he was fixated on Noriko, seemingly fascinated by the presence of another magical girl, or at least a "friend" of Kaneko's.

Noriko had come forward at that point and was crouching next to Kaneko, smiling at Jiro. "So has she ever told you about us?"

"Well, Kaneko-onee-chan told me about Puellae Magi," Jiro replied. His eyes darted to Kaneko and then away.

Noriko grinned. "Puellae Magi, huh? That's sort of odd." She glanced towards Kaneko, exaggerating her interest.

"It's traditional," Kaneko said, unable to keep the venom from her voice.

Instead of making a retort like Kaneko had expected her to, Noriko's smile widened. "Just what I'd expect from you, I suppose. So anyway, Jiro," she said, turning her attention back to him. "Do you believe everything she tells you about Puellae Magi?"

"She told me it's dangerous to be one," said Jiro, recounting what he knew in almost a proud manner. "And it's scary."

"Yeah, it is. It's both of those things." Noriko glanced at Kaneko out of the corner of her eye, but Kaneko knew it was part of her act from the way she raised her eyebrow in a sort of mischievous way. "But there's a lot of good things about being one too. There're a lot of… benefits."

"Benefits?" Jiro repeated with furrowed brows, feeling the word on his tongue.

"Yeah," said Noriko. "There are a whole bunch of us gathered nearby, see? More magical girls than you'd ever get normally – maybe more than your onee-chan's seen in her whole life." Her voice dropped to a whisper as if she were telling an important secret. "And I think there's even spare beds and spare food too. You miss your real bed, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jiro said a little bit tentatively, glancing at Kaneko again.

Kaneko's mind was locking, a buzz filling her head at what was unfolding in front of her. She didn't know what she could do. To barge in now would be like purposefully cutting a line in front of Jiro that was holding out something tantalizing. She couldn't do that to him, especially if he wouldn't understand why.

"If you ask me, your onee-chan's holding out on you," Noriko said, following Jiro's gaze to his sister. "She likes her independence and feeling like she's doing a good job of looking after you. And she is! But it's hard to keep going in a world like ours and… well, sometimes you have to admit that you just need a bit of help."

Her last words hit Kaneko like well-aimed shots from a very precise sniper. And that's exactly what Noriko was. She was a sniper of words, not bullets. A mercenary of deception – of bent truths woven among lies.

And the damage was done. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to go for the throat.

Noriko turned her head away and Kaneko did as well, but just so Jiro wouldn't see her clenched jaw and fists.

"So what do you say?" said Noriko. In her peripheral vision, Kaneko saw her place a hand on the mattress, dangerously close to Jiro's. "I've already talked to my friends and they said they'd gladly welcome you and Kaneko-san. You'll be safe from demons there and you won't have to hide in this cold, dark factory anymore. Your onee-chan won't have to protect you all by herself anymore, and I'm sure the other girls will gladly welcome her back and give her a job or something else so she can still feel like she's protecting you. I'm sure you'll both feel a lot better about staying there than in here."

"Really?" said Jiro. He sounded so hopeful that Kaneko's throat tightened, and she had to swallow hard.

"Yeah," Noriko said. "Back when Kaneko and I were partners, we did mostly everything together. And we promised each other we'd help out if one of us was in a tight spot. And if either of us was suffering, we'd put them out of their misery. So let me help both of you. Neither of you have to suffer anymore."

A flame had started burning behind Kaneko's eyes and was dancing down her spine, spreading out over her entire body and tingling at her fingertips. But it was the double meaning of Noriko's last few phrases that set off the firework.

Kaneko sprang to her feet and within the span of one second and the next her hands were around Noriko's neck as she hauled her to her feet by the scruff of her uniform and slammed her into the wall beside the heap of pillows that was Jiro's bed. She was only half aware of what she was really doing; all she could hear was her own ragged breathing, and the world around her was pulsing as blood roared in her ears. She didn't even hear Jiro as he cried out in surprise.

"Kaneko-san, what are you doing?" Noriko said, grabbing at her hands and trying to tug them away from her collar for the second time that day. This time, Kaneko wasn't letting go so easily. Although Noriko's tone seemed shocked, Kaneko could see the glitter of her eyes that told her she knew exactly what she'd done.

All that came out of Kaneko's throat was an almost guttural growl that only faintly resembled words. "Get out. _Now_. I don't ever want to see you again. Not here. Not around my brother."

"Oh, Kaneko-san, stop being stubborn," Noriko said. "I'm just trying to help you."

"I know exactly what you're doing," Kaneko said, her voice rising to a shout. "You know I do!" Her rage was so forceful that she suddenly got the feeling like she could easily wring Noriko's neck, should she tighten her grip just a little more. And she knew that, even if she chose not to do that and engaged her in magical combat instead, she could still defeat her easily.

So why was there such a tidal wave of despair lurking beneath her anger? No matter how firmly she held Noriko against the wall and glared daggers at her, imagining all the ways she could possibly hurt her, she already knew she'd lost. Between her and Noriko, Noriko had won for how much damage she'd been able to cause by simply talking, without even lifting a finger. Each thing she said had pierced and prodded at Kaneko's resolve, at one point even making her doubt herself. And her offer was too generous to turn down without coming off as arrogant, selfish, or like one who'd given up. Kaneko knew she couldn't let Jiro suffer, but the more Noriko spoke, the more she knew. He would suffer if they kept going like this. He wasn't going to survive unless they got help.

And _they_ were the only ones she knew who could help.

And then, of course, there was what would happen if she refused. She could already see it in Noriko's expression – the danger lurking beneath. The targets that were moving away from Kaneko and slowly landing on her brother. She didn't have a choice. She never had a choice.

But the longer she hid behind her anger, the longer she could hold out without letting the realization crush her. And so she did exactly that.

"Kaneko-san," said Noriko, sounding for all the world like she was a mother reasoning with her misbehaving daughter and not like someone who was on the verge of being strangled to death. "Please calm down. And maybe clean your Soul Gem. I've got some spares with me. Must be difficult having to transform so often and fight on your own. Hardly that rewarding, I'd think. And you're making a huge scene in front of your brother."

Kaneko took that quick moment to tear her gaze away from Noriko and look at Jiro. She instantly regretted doing so because she knew she could no longer even try to do what she'd been thinking about doing. He was staring at her, his eyes wide and… fearful.

She realized what she must look like, attacking Noriko in a frenzied fit of fury. Her days of frantic survival were already taking a toll on her appearance, mussing up her ponytail so that more silvery hair was hanging loose than was pulled back and griming her face with more dirt than she could ever hope to scrub off. She had become like a wild, unruly creature, unpredictable and frightening, driven to violence by sheer desperation.

Perhaps that had also been part of Noriko's plan. Noriko, who she no longer recognized. Noriko, who had just done something unthinkable to her.

Kaneko loosened her grip on Noriko and stumbled backwards. She'd lost; it was over. The anger receded, dying down from a blaze to a faint flame still flickering at her fingertips – potential of what she could do, but chose not to. A sudden weakness overtook her and she sank to the ground, her legs giving out as the blood rushed to her head and her headache returned, fiercer than before. This time, she allowed her head to fall into her hands as she pressed her forefingers hard against her temples. Apart from the pain, her mind felt eerily murky, and if she could still bring herself to conjure a clear string of thoughts, she would have felt horrified at the person she'd momentarily become. Instead, all she felt was emptiness, with despair eating away at the edges.

"Are you okay?" Noriko maintained her concerned façade and knelt near Kaneko, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't look so good."

There was a sound of shifting and a few dull _thwumps_ as Jiro slid off the mattress and came over to where Noriko was crouching in front of Kaneko. "Onee-chan?" he said nervously. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, don't worry," Noriko assured him gently. "She's just a bit low on power. It's sort of hard on a magical girl. I'll help her."

Kaneko didn't move as Noriko pried her hands away from her head. She'd reverted back to her regular clothing at some point after Kaneko had let go and was now fishing around in her pockets. After a few moments, she pulled out a handful of Grief Cubes and, one by one, she held them against Kaneko's Soul Gem on the clasp of her cloak.

"There," she said at last, sitting back. "Now aren't you relieved you didn't do anything you'd regret?"

"Kaneko-onee-chan, are you all better?" Jiro asked.

Even though she felt a little more refreshed from the cleansing and could no longer feel the despair, Kaneko couldn't shake the feeling of numbness. Still, she raised her head and put on a smile for Jiro that only wobbled a little. "I'm all better," she said, trying to sound reassuring. "I'm sorry, Jiro." She held her arms out and only felt a bit of panic for a second when he hesitated. But then he came forward and she enfolded him in her embrace, allowing some of the tension in her limbs to bleed away.

"So then, will I have to the two of you to present as honoured guests back at headquarters?" Noriko asked hopefully.

Kaneko squeezed her eyes shut, still holding Jiro tightly to her. But she knew that Noriko was already anticipating her response. Everything was going according to her plan. "Yes."

"I'm glad," Noriko said, and when Kaneko looked up at her, she saw a small smirk on her face. Noriko wasn't one to win modestly. "We'll take good care of both of you; that's a promise."

Without letting go of Jiro, Kaneko rose to her feet, hoisting him up to rest against her hip.

"I don't suppose you have much to bring with you," Noriko said, giving a brief glance at the mattress where Jiro had slept.

Kaneko avoided Noriko's face, instead staring at the ground near her feet. That, and focusing on Jiro's weight helped to keep her distracted. "No."

"Good," Noriko said. "Well, let's hope you can hold out until we get where we're going," she added, directing it at the unresponsive Kaneko. Then she turned and began walking, only gesturing briefly to tell them to follow. "Now let's get out of here already."

She began walking and once she reached the giant exit without Kaneko moving an inch, Jiro prodded the silvery girl confusedly. "Are we going, onee-chan?"

Kaneko closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them and nodded. She turned her head to look back for a heartbeat at the mattress bed she'd made for Jiro and then began walking.

She was on her way back to _them_ , like they'd always wanted. And she was bringing with her the most powerful and deadliest weapon they could use against her.


End file.
